Upside-Down Apple Gingerbread

Yom Kippur. The fast. The atonement. The annual reckoning with the self, which is never comfortable and which this year is particularly uncomfortable because the self I am reckoning with is a self that has made a decision — retirement — and the decision, while correct, carries guilt, because guilt is the tax that Jewish women pay on every decision, including the good ones. I am guilty of leaving my students. I am guilty of choosing Marvin over the classroom. I am guilty of being tired. I am guilty of guilt, which is recursive and unhelpful and very, very Jewish.

I prayed in the synagogue — the first Yom Kippur in the building in two years, masked (I still mask in indoor crowds, because the virus is not gone and Ruth Feldman is not a gambler), sitting in the pew where I have sat for thirty-nine years, next to the spot where Marvin used to sit and where David now sits, David who has taken his father's seat the way David has taken his father's place in so many of the family's architectural arrangements. The services were long and beautiful and I cried during the Kol Nidre, which is the prayer that releases you from the vows you cannot keep, and the crying was not for the prayer but for the vow I am releasing myself from: the vow to teach, the vow I made at twenty-two in a classroom at SUNY Albany, the vow that has defined me for forty-two years and that I am, with God as my witness and the cantor as my soundtrack, letting go.

The break-fast was in my house — twelve people, bagels and lox and cream cheese and coffee cake and the particular joy of eating after twenty-five hours of not eating, which is a joy that Yom Kippur gives you, the joy of return, the joy of the first bite after the emptiness, and I watched my family eat and I thought: this is what the fast is for. Not the punishment. Not the atonement. The fast is for this moment: the table, the food, the family, the breaking of the bread that you had to give up to appreciate, the love that is clearer after the absence.

Every year I put out the coffee cake at the break-fast, and every year someone asks me for the recipe, and every year I say I’ll write it down and then I don’t, because the kitchen has always been secondary to the classroom in my mental accounting. This year I wrote it down. This year, with the vow released and the fast broken and Marvin’s seat filled by David and twelve people eating at my table, I decided that the coffee cake — this upside-down apple gingerbread, fragrant and dark and autumn-sweet — deserved its place on the page the same way the people who ate it deserved their place at the table. It is the taste of return. It is the first bite after the emptiness.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour | Servings: 9

Ingredients

Apple Topping
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1/3 cup packed dark brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 medium apples (such as Honeycrisp or Granny Smith), peeled, cored, and thinly sliced
Gingerbread Batter
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon fine salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar
1 large egg, room temperature
1/2 cup unsulfured molasses
1/2 cup boiling water

Instructions

Preheat and prepare the pan. Heat your oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease a 9-inch square baking pan thoroughly with butter or nonstick spray.
Make the apple topping. Stir together the melted butter, brown sugar, and cinnamon in a small bowl. Pour evenly into the prepared pan. Arrange the apple slices in overlapping rows over the brown sugar mixture, covering as much of the bottom as possible.
Whisk the dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, ginger, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and salt. Set aside.
Cream the butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and brown sugar together with an electric mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the egg and beat until fully combined. Add the molasses and mix until smooth.
Combine wet and dry. Add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture in two additions, alternating with the boiling water (begin and end with flour). Mix on low speed just until the batter is smooth — do not overmix.
Pour and bake. Gently pour the batter over the arranged apples in the pan, spreading it evenly with a spatula. Bake for 38 to 42 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the edges begin to pull away from the pan.
Cool and invert. Let the cake cool in the pan for exactly 10 minutes — no longer, or the topping will stick. Run a knife around the edges, then place a serving plate or cutting board over the pan and flip in one confident motion. Lift the pan away slowly. If any apple slices shift, simply press them back into place.
Serve warm or at room temperature. This cake is excellent still slightly warm, sliced into squares alongside coffee or tea. It keeps well covered at room temperature for up to 2 days, or refrigerated for up to 4 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Upside-Down Apple Gingerbread — The Coffee Cake That Welcomed Us Back to the Table