First off, I want to thank all of you who gave me such a warm welcome here last month. Whether it was by leaving a comment, re-sharing with your own networks, subscribing, or simply opening my newsletter and reading my words, you made me feel seen and validated in my work and, more importantly, in my voice.
Since I last wrote, life went… a little topsy turvy. My mom, who was visiting, fell a few days into her trip and fractured her wrist. What was a 10-day trip intended to help me with childcare and my cookbook turned into a month-long stay that involved an ER visit, doctor appointments, and surgery. Meanwhile, my husband, Lee, was either working or traveling on the weekends or preparing for a culminating end-of-fellowship presentation. Not to mention the fact that he threw out his back and was barely moving. All of a sudden the majority of caring for my family fell on me.
For a few weeks there, it was a non-stop grind between cooking, cleaning, laundry, caring and comforting, drop-offs and pick-ups, and all the things that come with injury or illness—lining up medical care, following up with insurance, monitoring pain meds. And of course, in an attempt to not fall cripplingly behind, I was squeezing in working on the book whenever I could. I was bone tired, yes, and I had my grumpy moments, but for the most part I was OK. (Except for that one time, when Lee was out of town and I hadn’t slept well the night before, and our son Anton took his toy T-rex and, for no reason, hit me so hard in the forehead that I lost it out of shock, pain, and sheer exhaustion. I was definitely not OK then.)
Looking back, the biggest thing that helped get me through that unfortunate timing of events was a shift in outlook, which, to be honest, didn’t happen consciously. Sometime between getting dinner on the table, putting Anton down to bed so Lee could work on his project, and doing my mom’s hair and tying her shoes for her, I went from “Why is this happening to me?” to “Ok, how can I be of service right now?” To feel needed by others is empowering and expansive; to be of actual, tangible use to them—even more so. This was my family, I was taking care of them, and I was doing a pretty good job at it.
Obviously that pace of giving wasn’t sustainable, and I can go on and on about the invisible labor I take on that extends beyond just a rough patch. Do I wish my mom’s time in Seattle had gone a bit differently? Yes, I do. But here are the silver linings: it gifted me more time with her and we even managed to tackle some recipes (check these golubtsy out) for the cookbook like we initially intended! She was able to stay at home with Anton while I snuck a dinner out to one of my favorite restaurants with my friend Christine Chitnis who was in town promoting her beautiful new book Patterns of Portugal.
And lastly, it taught me that there are moments in life you’re forced to put your bullshit aside and be in service of others—and sometimes that’s a good thing.
PS If you’re in Seattle, join me tomorrow, Wednesday, May 29th, for an author talk with Sasha Vasilyuk at Elliott Bay Books to celebrate her debut novel Your Presence is Mandatory. I initially came across Sasha’s writing in the LA Times - she wrote about the post-Soviet diaspora and how the war in Ukraine both fractured and unified the community since the war broke out. I’ve resonated with a lot of her articles since then, and so I am so excited to meet her and here more about the book. As an added bonus, I’ll be baking up rogaliki (russian/ukrainian rugelach) for the event. Hopefully see you there!
Now to the recipe…
“Grated'“ Jam Cake - Tyerti Pirog
Speaking of being in service of others, this is the just the sort of simple, yet inviting cake to make for someone that needs a little pick-me-up—even if that someone is you. It’s easy, travels well, and does you a favor by using up all those half-eaten jars of jam in the back of your fridge. In Russian it’s called tyerti pirog, literally “grated cake,” for the way you grate a portion of the dough. The bottom has a melt-in-your-mouth, shortbread-like texture, while the grated topping is a nice crunchy counterpoint. Sandwiched in between both is a generous jammy layer—we like to use a tart preserve such as apricot or currant to cut the sweetness, but use whatever you have. The powdered and candied ginger aren’t traditional, but make each bite all the more delicious.
Recipe originally published in my book Everyday Cake.
Makes one 8-inch square or 9-inch round cake
2 ¼ cups minus 1 tablespoon (285 g) all-purpose flour, plus ½ cup (65 g) for grated topping
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 ¼ teaspoons Diamond Crystal kosher salt or rounded ½ teaspoon fine sea salt
1 teaspoon ground ginger (optional)
1 cup (226 g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup (200 g) granulated sugar
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1 ¼ teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup (335 g) tart jam or preserves, such as sour cherry, black or red currant, apricot, or
a blend
¼ cup (40 g) crystallized ginger, finely chopped (optional)
⅓ cup (35 g) sliced or slivered almonds or chopped walnuts
Powdered sugar, for dusting
Grease an 8-inch square or 9-inch round pan and line the bottom with parchment paper.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the 2 ¼ cups minus 1 tablespoon (285 g) flour, baking powder, salt, and ginger.
In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter and sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, 4 to 5 minutes, scraping down the bottom and sides of the bowl often. Add the eggs one at a time, beating to fully incorporate after each addition and scraping down the bowl as needed. Add the vanilla and mix to combine.
Reduce the speed to low and add the flour mixture in two batches, mixing until just combined and scraping down the bowl as needed. Spoon three-quarters of the batter (about 620 g) into the prepared pan and use an offset spatula to spread the thick batter out evenly. Set aside. To the batter left in the mixer bowl, add the remaining ½ cup (65 g) flour and mix on low speed to combine. Pat the dough into a disk and freeze until thoroughly chilled, 45 to 60 minutes.
When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Use an offset spatula or spoon to spread the jam over the batter in the pan. Use a box grater to evenly grate half of the chilled dough over the cake. Sprinkle with the crystallized ginger. Evenly grate the remaining dough over the top—do not press it down.
Bake the cake until the top begins to brown, about 35 minutes. Remove from the oven and distribute the almonds evenly over the top. Return to the oven and bake until golden brown and a tester inserted into the center comes out clean, another 10 to 15 minutes. Allow to cool to warm or room temperature before dusting with powdered sugar. Cut into squares and serve. The squares keep well wrapped at room temperature for 3 or 4 days.
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My mom makes this cake from time to time! Sometimes she'll use diced apples instead of the jam. That crunch on top is just the best.
Oof. Deep breath, my friend. Sounds like you are handling it all admirably xo