Autumnal cake

Almond and Plum Cake

Almond and Plum Cake

It’s been a busy but good summer. Lots of camping, discovering new mountain bike trails (more on that to come), extra work (pays the bills), a new creative venture (more on that to come too) and entering some writing competitions (so far without success) hasn’t left a lot of time to catch up on blogging. Phew! Time to sit down for some cake and coffee.

Slice of almond and plum cake

Slice of cake

I ever so slightly adjusted this excellent Almond and Plum Cake recipe from a lovely blog (with a cute whimsical name to match), Mrs.Twinkle.

Instead of dairy milk I used almond milk, instead of orange zest I used lemon zest (it’s all I had in the fridge), and instead of regular sugar I used coconut sugar. I did still use icing sugar on the top to decorate. You could probably go full on vegan by replacing the butter and eggs and I bet it would taste fantastic but I haven’t tried that yet, so don’t quote me on it.

And of course I used those gorgeously wine-dark prune plums that have been around lately.

Fall leaves, a chill in the air but still enough daylight and late season sunshine for cycling or hiking. And when the wind and rain blows in, as it inevitably does, then hunkering down to read novels, magazines and blogs follows. With cake. And coffee.

Slice of almond and plum cake

The cake even worked for a birthday; simple but effective (more of an adult cake than a child’s cake admittedly).

Almond/plum cake as a birthday cake

A simple, but stylish birthday cake

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
   Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
   With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
   And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
      To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
   With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
      For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
(To Autumn: John Keats)

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