Recently, the newlywed chavurah from my synagogue — of which Kenny and I are still members, despite our clearly non-newlywed status — got together for a potluck bbq at the home of our friends, Jan and Ben. I wracked my brain for what to bring, but remembered the perfect summer-themed treat: my Pineapple Coconut Coffee Cake.
The fruity pineapple layer moistens the cake the longer it sits.
With its sweet layer of crumb topping and crushed pineapple swirled though the middle, it has a tropical flavor that cannot be beat.
Even avid pineapple and coconut haters, like my friend, Adam, took second helpings of this one.
Camera phone photo of Adam serving the first slice. Want some?
If your next island adventure is a long time coming, this is a coffee cake you won’t want to miss.
The Jewish High Holidays are quickly approaching, and as it seems like they creep up on us each year, this year is no exception. Today, I have a very special treat that comes straight from one of my mother-in-law’s additions to my family cookbook, and has elevated our Rosh Hashana table for several generations.
Everytime I ask Bette Jo, my mother-in-law, about this recipe, a big smile spreads across her face as she remembers the story behind it. It’s amazing how cooking techniques and recipes change over time. My husband’s great-grandmother, Ruth Sunshine, was famous for her plum cake, and it has remained a true family treasure. When Ruth handed down the recipe to Bette Jo, then a newlywed, Bette Jo was shocked to see that there was no mention of specific oven temperature, and that the only mention of cook-time was “bake until done.” Lucky for us here at TheCubanReuben.com, my dedicated mother-in-law tested and tweaked until she determined the missing details in the recipe. Maybe cooks in the old-world had a better sense of their kitchens, but today, baking is a precise science.
Our family’s High Holiday feasts would be incomplete without this classic, Eastern European, hand-me-down recipe, and I have yet to try one that comes close to being as good as Bette Jo’s. After a decadent meal, this dessert is the perfect ending, as it is not overly sweet. The juice from the plums moistens the thin, dense layer of cake, and the sprinkling of cinnamon perfumes and adorns every bite. I should mention that it is hardly surprising that one of Bette Jo’s most favored dishes includes lots and lots of cinnamon, because this is her signature spice. Each serving of this cake is ornamented with its own plum half sitting like a ruby gemstone sanded with cinnamon and sugar, and according to my sweet-toothed husband, begs to be crowned with a dollop of freshly whipped cream. Although traditionally found on our high holiday menu, this plum cake recipe would also make a perfect pairing with an afternoon tea.