Prune Spice Cake

Prune Spice Cake: An Old Favorite

I haven't remembered a lot of the recipes in Grandma's box, but I did remember this one, and not only because my sister had given me a framed copy to display in my kitchen. This was a recipe my mother often made when I was growing up, usually for Sunday dinner dessert. It had been a long time since I'd had it, though, and I'd forgotten what it tasted like.  

It had been so long because I'd hesitated to make it for my own family. Since I couldn't remember the taste, I couldn't predict whether they would like it. The word "prune" in the title didn't help. I doubted they would be excited when I announced that Prune Spice Cake was the dessert of the day. Therefore, I decided to make half a recipe first, just to remind myself why I used to like this cake. 

How to make Prune Spice Cake

The making of it started by trying to figure out what kind of prunes I needed. The recipe called for "one cup of prunes, drained and cut up." Clearly, these weren't dried prunes that came in a package. I wasn't even sure if they still made prunes in a jar, but lo and behold, our nearest Walmart had some in stock, and the label even claimed they were "Amazin."  

It wasn't until after I bought the bottle that I noticed the framed recipe said "cooked prunes, pitted and drained." Apparently, I could have cooked some dried prunes until they were soft. That was good to know.  

I took out the amount I needed and began to chop them up. It was then that I discovered they still had the pits. I had to pick through them and make sure all the pits were discarded before I could resume my chopping. 

I set the prunes aside and started on the batter by adding the shortening and sugar to a bowl.

The eggs went in next, and because I was doing half a recipe, I used just the yolk of one egg. I beat the mixture together until it was light and fluffy.

The prunes went in next, and I beat the mixture well. It wasn't looking appealing yet. 

Grandma had instructed that the flour be sifted together with the salt, baking soda, baking powder, and spices. I had a question about the flour, though. The recipe in her box called for two cups, but the recipe in the frame said two and a half. I went with two to begin with, thinking I could add more flour if the batter looked too slack. To sift everything together, I placed a sieve over the bowl and added the flour, leavening, and spices.  

I then sifted that into the prune mixture, added the buttermilk, and beat the batter just until the ingredients came together. The batter seemed to be a good consistency, so I decided to leave out the questionable amount of flour and see what happened. 

The full recipe is cooked in a 9 x 13-inch pan, but I was only doing half as much, so I wasn't sure what size pan to use. First, I greased a nine-inch square and spread in the batter, but the layer was quite thin. It all got scraped into an 8-inch square, which seemed about right.  

I put the pan in the preheated oven and set the timer for the lowest time listed. It came out 35 minutes later looking golden brown. However, it had fallen slightly in the middle, so maybe that was why Grandma had added the extra flour. 

The recipe said to serve it with either lemon or caramel sauce, but there were no instructions for either. I could have made the caramel sauce from this recipe or the butter sauce from this one.  Instead, I simplified my life and went with a drizzle of caramel ice cream topping and, of course, some whipped cream. 

The Verdict on Prune Spice Cake

Ah ha. At last, I remembered why we regularly had this cake for Sunday dinner. It was so good.  

As for the prunes, you could hardly tell they were there. They were so soft to begin with that they practically disappeared into the cake during the baking process, leaving behind moistness and a molasses-like depth of flavor. The toppings enhanced the cake, taking it over the top in yumminess, but it was also good when I snuck a cold piece the next day. Deliciously spiced and moist, the perfect snack cake.   

Still squeamish about prunes? Call them dried plums and see if that helps because you really must try this cake. The prune jar label got it right--it's amazin.