Rustic Apple Cake
Ingredients:
| Name | Metric | US | TIP | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Corn Flour | 50 gr | 1/3 cup | ||
| Rice Flour | 50 gr | 1/3 cup | ||
| Eggs | 4 | 4 | ||
| Coconut Sugar | 30 gr | 1 1/2 tablespoons | ||
| Baking Powder | 6 gr | 1 teaspoon | ||
| Apples, cored and thinly sliced | 300 gr | 3 | ||
| Lemon Juice, optional | 15 ml | 1 tablespoon |
Optional Ingredients :
| 6 gr / 1 tsp Vanilla Extract | |
| 6 gr / 1 tsp Ground Cinnamon |
Steps:
Step 1
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Step 8
Comments:
Rustic Apple Cake
When making Rustic Apple Cake, you might come across a few common challenges, but don’t worry—most of them are easy to fix! Here’s a list of potential issues and how to solve them:
Cake is too dense:
- Solution: Make sure to beat the eggs well, as this helps the batter become light and airy. Gently fold in the dry ingredients to avoid deflating the batter. You can also add a little extra baking powder to help with leavening.
Apples sink to the bottom:
- Solution: Toss the apple slices in a little rice flour or corn starch before adding them to the batter. This will help the apples stay evenly distributed throughout the cake and prevent them from sinking.
Cake is too dry:
- Solution: Check your oven temperature, as baking at too high of a temperature can dry out the cake. Also, make sure to use very ripe apples—if the apples aren’t ripe enough, the cake may turn out dry. You can add a little more moisture by including a tablespoon of oil or a splash of milk (dairy-free if needed) to the batter.
Cake sticks to the pan:
- Solution: Since this is a gluten-free recipe, greasing the pan well or lining it with parchment paper is key. Gluten-free cakes can sometimes stick more, so make sure the sides and bottom are properly greased before pouring in the batter.
Top of the cake is too dark:
- Solution: If the top of the cake is browning too quickly, cover it with aluminum foil for the last 10 minutes of baking. This will prevent the top from burning while the inside finishes cooking.
With these simple fixes, you'll be able to bake the perfect gluten-free Rustic Apple Cake, every time!
Rustic Apple Cake additional information:
The Rustic Apple Cake
On a crisp autumn afternoon, Crina stood by the window, watching the golden leaves drift down from the trees. The air smelled of earth and spice, the kind of air that made her long for something warm and comforting. She smiled to herself, remembering the recipe she’d been meaning to try—a simple rustic apple cake that was as warm and inviting as the season itself.
Her golden retriever, Max, was curled up in his favorite spot by the door, his tail thumping softly against the floor every time the wind blew. He had an uncanny knack for knowing when something delicious was about to happen in the kitchen. Crina glanced down at him, and his eyes met hers, full of anticipation.
“This one’s special, Max,” she said, her voice soft. “It’s Grandma’s recipe.”
Crina could almost hear her grandmother’s voice as she gathered the ingredients. The recipe was written in her grandmother’s careful handwriting, slightly faded on the yellowed page of an old notebook. It brought Crina back to chilly autumn evenings from her childhood, when she would sit at her grandmother’s kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a warm mug of cider, watching her grandmother slice apples with precision. The kitchen would fill with the smell of baking apples, cinnamon, and love—always love.
With Max watching, Crina cracked four eggs into a bowl and beat them until they grew thick and frothy, just as her grandmother had taught her. “Five minutes, at least,” her grandma used to say. “That’s the secret to making it light and fluffy.” As the eggs tripled in volume, Crina added coconut sugar, watching it dissolve into the eggs like golden sunlight. The promise of sweetness filled the air, and Max’s nose twitched in response.
Next, she combined the rice and corn flour, the baking powder, and a hint of cinnamon, just as her grandmother’s recipe instructed. The apple slices, which she’d carefully peeled and drizzled with lemon juice, sparkled in the bowl like tiny jewels. She layered the batter and apples in the pan, just as her grandmother had done, remembering how she used to hum an old tune as she worked.
Max, unable to resist the mouthwatering smells, padded over to her feet and gave a soft whine. Crina laughed and bent down to scratch his ears. “Grandma used to say the best part of baking is sharing it,” she told him. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a taste too.”
As the cake baked in the oven, the kitchen filled with a warm, familiar scent, and Crina closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself be carried back to those evenings in her grandmother’s cozy kitchen. She could almost hear the crackle of the fire in the corner and the soft shuffle of her grandma’s slippers on the wooden floor.
When the cake was done, it looked just as she remembered: golden brown, with soft apple slices peeking through the top. A light dusting of powdered sugar completed it. She cut a slice, letting the warm aroma fill her senses, and gave a small piece to Max, who wagged his tail in approval as he devoured his treat.
Taking her own bite, Crina sighed with contentment. The cake was just as she remembered—light, tender, with the perfect balance of sweetness and spice. It tasted like childhood, like comfort, like love. She smiled to herself, feeling a pang of bittersweet joy. Her grandmother may not be here anymore, but in this cake, she felt her presence, as though she were standing right beside her.
Max nudged her hand with his nose, and Crina laughed. “I think Grandma would have liked you, Max. She always believed in sharing the best parts of life.”
As the last crumbs disappeared, Crina felt a warm glow in her heart. The day may have been cool, but her home was filled with warmth—wrapped in the comforting embrace of a cake made with love, memories of her grandmother, and the company of her loyal friend.
The rustic apple cake wasn’t just dessert. It was a link to the past, a reminder of chilly autumn evenings filled with love, and a promise that those memories would never fade. And as the seasons passed, Crina knew there would always be a cozy spot in her kitchen, where love and cake would be shared, just as Grandma would have wanted.