This cake has three kinds of apple, no compromise

Three apples. One cake. Endless fall

The Bite subscribers can now join the conversation — click the speech bubble icon to leave a comment or click the heart to like this post. Last week, we finished our series on turning sides into stars with this buttery pull-apart ham and swiss bread. This week, we’re kicking off a new series about seasonal, weeknight baking. Let’s dive in!

Are we seasonal creatures? A June study from the University of Michigan suggests we are: even with blackout curtains, LED bulbs and thermostats locked at 72, our circadian rhythms still sway with the light, sleeping longer in winter and less in summer, echoing the old agricultural logic our bodies once obeyed.

The implications are fascinating — for mood, metabolism, cardiovascular health — but the line that stuck with me came from study author Ruby Kim, a postdoctoral professor of mathematics: “Humans really are seasonal, even though we might not want to admit that in our modern context.”

Funny thing is, I think we do know this, maybe not consciously, but somewhere deep in our bones. It’s there in our rituals and mythologies, our cravings and holidays. Many of them, if you trace them back far enough, began as celebrations of the harvest and the table. It’s the quiet thread that runs between the ache of late November and the relief of May. (I think of Linda Pastan’s poem “October,” where she describes feeling “like Daphne, standing / with my arms / outstretched / to the season,” that posture of surrender to inevitable change.)

The stories we tell and retell carry the same knowing. From Demeter mourning Persephone to the harvest holidays of Passover, Shavuot and Sukkot, we’ve always marked time through the land. The Japanese concept of kō, or micro-seasons, reads like a fieldworker’s prayer: fish emerge from ice; farmers drain fields; last frost, rice seedlings grow.

They invite us to notice, to belong to a moment as small and precise as frost dissolving on a leaf.

And even with all that being said, I, like a lot of folks, found myself largely checked out from the passage of time during the pandemic. Especially in those early weeks, when the streets were quiet and the coffee shops closed, days seemed to melt into one another. Just a slow, featureless stretch. Even as things opened up, the memory of that disorientation lingered, like a bad hangover. But sometime over this last winter — that numbing, hoary stretch between mid-February and March — I decided this might be the year to reclaim a bit of seasonal delight. 

It’s a decision that was partly spiritual: when the world feels unmoored, it seemed perhaps worth remembering that our predecessors relied on the seasons as enveloping promises of change. Partly whimsical: I’m letting myself notice the little, absurd sparks of autumn that make me smile. 

Recently, I pulled out my copy of “Gus Was a Friendly Ghost,” a children’s book in which Gus has somehow mastered a disarming number of cheese-based dishes. I stopped into a local yarn store when their sidewalk chalkboard advertised “Pumpkin Spice Mohair,” which made me laugh out loud on the street and got me back into crocheting (scarf in progress; report to follow).

And at a resale shop, I found a tiny beaded ghost, about the size of my palm, slightly battered but perfectly poised to live on a black sweatshirt or tote; for now, he resides in the front pocket of my work binder.

Naturally, this little season of delights pulled me back to the kitchen. Baking has always been a way of marking time. It’s slow, sensory and satisfying, from mixing to folding to heating. So, over the next month on The Bite, I’ll be playing with autumn’s bounty — apples, pumpkin, pears and figs — and showing how even weeknight recipes can feel celebratory. Store-bought shortcuts are welcome; creativity is encouraged.

We begin with a triple-apple snacking cake.

It features apples in three forms: a tender, applesauce-sweetened cake; diced, spiced roasted apples; and a tangy, fragrant apple butter–cream cheese frosting. You could cheat with a boxed cake mix, but the approach I love balances ease with real flavor: homemade batter, plus an upgraded store-bought cream cheese frosting. Just a few tweaks and it tastes homemade, I promise.

The cake

Warm, cozy spices take center stage: brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, a little orange zest. With butter, eggs, and a full cup of unsweetened applesauce, the crumb is soft, tender, and irresistible. I kept this a snacking cake — single-layered, baked in a 9x13-inch pan, so it’s easy to slice, serve and eat.

The roasted apples

One or two firm baking apples — Honeycrisp, Pink Lady, Granny Smith — get peeled or left unpeeled (I like the color and convenience of keeping the skin on) and diced. Toss them on a parchment-lined sheet, drizzle with a bit of butter and dust with cinnamon and a pinch of sea salt. Roast just until tender and lightly caramelized, about 15 minutes. These go straight into the batter, carrying pockets of sweet-tart apple flavor through the cake.

The frosting

Of course, you could make your own cream cheese frosting (Alton Brown has a great one) and your own apple butter (Alison Roman’s is beautiful), but for a weeknight-friendly version, store-bought works beautifully. I prefer Duncan Hines frosting over Pillsbury — it’s tangier — and I fold in about ¼ cup Murray’s Heirloom Apple Butter, a pinch of salt, a splash of vanilla and the zest of an orange. It makes a frosting that’s glossy, aromatic and just sweet enough to balance the apples.

Here’s how to make it at home: 

Triple Apple Snacking Cake

Ingredients

Roasted Apples:

• 2 medium apples (Honeycrisp, Braeburn, or Pink Lady), peeled, cored, and diced

• 1 Tbsp unsalted butter, melted

• 2 tsp of cinnamon

• Pinch kosher salt

Cake Batter:

• 2 cups all-purpose flour

• 1 tsp baking powder

• ½ tsp baking soda

• ½ tsp kosher salt

• 1 ½ tsp ground cinnamon

• ¼ tsp ground nutmeg

• Zest of ½ orange

• ½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened

• 1 cup light brown sugar, packed

• 2 large eggs

• 1 cup unsweetened applesauce

• 1 tsp vanilla extract

Cream Cheese Frosting (Weeknight-Friendly):

• 1 tub (about 16 oz) cream cheese frosting

• ¼ cup apple butter

• Zest of ½  orange

• Splash of vanilla extract

• Pinch of salt

Optional Toppings:

• Chopped toasted pecans

• Candied ginger

• Crushed pretzels (for salty contrast)

Method

1. Roast the apples: Preheat oven to 375°F. Toss diced apples with butter, cinnamon and salt. Spread on a parchment-lined sheet pan. Roast 15–20 minutes, until tender and lightly caramelized. Cool.
   

2. Prep the pan: Grease a 9x13-inch baking pan or line with parchment. Lower oven to 350°F.
   

3. Make the batter: In a bowl, whisk flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, and orange zest. In a large bowl, cream butter and brown sugar until fluffy. Beat in eggs one at a time, then stir in applesauce and vanilla. Fold dry ingredients into wet until just combined.
   

4. Assemble cake: Spread half the batter in the pan. Scatter roasted apples evenly over the top. Dollop remaining batter over and gently spread to cover.
   

5. Bake: 30–35 minutes, until golden and a toothpick comes out clean. Cool completely.
   

6. Make frosting: In a medium bowl, stir together cream cheese frosting, apple butter, orange zest, vanilla, and salt until smooth. This creates a frosting that’s glossy, aromatic, and just sweet enough to balance the apples.
   

7. Frost & finish: Spread frosting over cooled cake. Sprinkle with optional toppings. Slice into squares and enjoy.

Hey there! What are your go-to fall baking projects? What do you look forward to mixing up and putting in the oven this season? Scroll up to let us know in the comments, or just send me a quick email at [email protected] — I’m taking notes!

Support our food journalism. Become a Salon member today!

What to make this week: Apple butter clafoutis

If you, like me, can't get enough of apples, might I recommend my apple butter clafoutis?

Clafoutis has always been the shape-shifter of my summers: a shallow dish of fruit, a whisper-thin custardy batter, edges puffed, center tender. With cherries or berries, it’s rustic and elegant; with backyard blackberries, it’s flirtatious and violet-stained. This autumn, I gave it a seasonal twist — swapping summer fruit for crisp apples, dusted with warm spice and streaked with the deep, molasses-y richness of apple butter.

What we’re reading and watching: “Rhapsody in Green” + “Black Rabbit”

Inspired by my still-blossoming appreciation of seasonality, I recently found myself in the “Gardening Essays and Memoirs” section of a local bookstore, where I picked up “Rhapsody in Green: A Novelist, An Obsession and a Laughably Small Excuse for a Vegetable Garden.” Charlotte Mendelson chronicles her six-square-meter urban plot with obsessive delight: chaotic, almost comically tiny, yet crammed with about a hundred varieties of fruits and vegetables. Her garden is, by her own description, “bonkers,” but it radiates happiness and quiet, improbable triumph.

On the screen, I fell into “Black Rabbit,” Netflix series about rising-star restaurateur Jake (Jude Law), whose ambitions collide with the criminal underworld when his reckless brother Vince (Jason Bateman) returns to town with loan sharks in tow. However, Jake is not blameless here either. For anyone who followed the story of the alleged sexual misconduct at New York City gastropub The Spotted Pig, you’ll spot similarities in how the Black Rabbit is run. It’s gritty, high-octane and — alongside the murders — unfurls the messy power dynamics still woven throughout fine dining.

ALSO FROM SALON