Walnut Honey Cake

December, and the historic district has dressed itself for Christmas with the understated elegance that Charleston considers its birthright — wreaths on the doors, candles in the windows, garland on the wrought-iron gates. The decorating is not ostentatious. It is traditional. And tradition, in Charleston, is not nostalgia but religion.

I began decorating the house on Saturday, and the decorating was an exercise in negotiation — between what the house has always looked like at Christmas and what the house needs to look like now, with Mama in it. The tree went in the usual place, but I chose lights instead of candles because candles and Alzheimer's are a combination I will not risk. The stockings went on the mantle — six now, because I made one for Mama and one for Joy, and the addition of two stockings to a mantle that held four is a small thing that felt enormous, a declaration that this house is their house too, not temporarily but permanently.

James finished his first semester with the kind of grades that make a mother proud and a political science department hopeful: A's in everything except statistics, where he received a B+, which he considered a failure and I considered a lesson in the difference between aptitude and interest. "You don't love statistics," I told him. "You love argument. The B+ is a honest grade for a subject you endure rather than embrace." He seemed comforted by this, which is the measure of whether parental wisdom is genuine or merely convenient.

Carrie has added three more colleges to her spreadsheet, all of them far from Charleston, all of them with strong study abroad programs. She has not mentioned staying in South Carolina. I have not mentioned wanting her to. We are two women who know what the other is thinking and who are being kind enough not to say it, because saying it would make it real, and the real will arrive soon enough without our help.

I made Mama's fruitcake this week — the dark, bourbon-soaked, dense cake that takes three days to make and three weeks to cure and that Mama has been making every December since she married Reverend James in 1968. The fruitcake is not for everyone. It is for the people who understand that some things improve with age and alcohol, and that the waiting is part of the recipe. I wrapped it in cheesecloth, soaked it in bourbon, and put it in the pantry to cure. By Christmas it will be perfect. By Christmas, I hope, other things will be perfect too, but the fruitcake is the only thing I can guarantee.

Mama’s fruitcake won’t be ready until Christmas, and that’s exactly as it should be—some things can’t be rushed, and the waiting is, as I said, part of the recipe. But this week, with the stockings on the mantle and James home and the house settling into its new shape, I wanted something sweet that didn’t require three weeks of patience. This Walnut Honey Cake is the answer to that particular need: a dense, honest cake full of warm flavors, the kind of thing you make when the season calls for something made with care but life calls for it today.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 12

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup honey, plus extra for drizzling
1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar
3 large eggs, room temperature
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
3/4 cup sour cream
1 1/2 cups roughly chopped walnuts, divided
1 tablespoon turbinado sugar (for topping)

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch round cake pan or a 9x5-inch loaf pan and line the bottom with parchment paper.
Whisk dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Set aside.
Cream butter and sweeteners. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with an electric mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add the honey and brown sugar and continue beating until well combined, about 2 more minutes.
Add eggs and vanilla. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the vanilla extract. The batter may look slightly curdled—this is normal.
Combine wet and dry. Reduce mixer speed to low. Add the flour mixture in three additions, alternating with the sour cream in two additions, beginning and ending with the flour. Mix just until combined; do not overmix.
Fold in walnuts. Using a rubber spatula, fold in 1 cup of the chopped walnuts until evenly distributed throughout the batter.
Fill the pan. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top. Scatter the remaining 1/2 cup of walnuts over the surface and sprinkle with turbinado sugar.
Bake. Bake for 45–55 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean and the top is deep golden brown. If the top browns too quickly, tent loosely with foil after 35 minutes.
Cool and finish. Let the cake cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack. While still slightly warm, drizzle lightly with additional honey. Allow to cool completely before slicing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Walnut Honey Cake — A Sweet Thing You Can Count On