I know a cake that's prepped in 15 minutes and bakes in 30 more. It's full of jammy fruit, has an exceptionally tender crumb, and is crowned with a thin, crunchy sheet of sugar. It's called Raspberry Buttermilk Cake, but you can forget that first part—it really doesn't matter if this cake has raspberries, or blueberries. It might even include plums. But no matter which you choose, this cake always wins.
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This is a definitely a summer cake, and you want to make it while there's still fragrant, luscious fruit at the farmer's market. That fruit gets piled right on top of the batter. Before it goes in the oven, you'll think that there's been some sort of mistake—the cake barely comes up an inch in the pan, dominated by all the fruit you've piled in the pan. But in the heat of the oven, the batter has its revenge, slinking its way around the fruit and encasing each berry or plum wedge in soft, blonde crumbs.
When made with blueberries, the cake reminds me of a big muffin: A fluffy, vanilla-scented middle spiked with soft fruit, and a sugary, crackly crust. And that makes sense, because—real talk—should there be any cake left over in the morning, there certainly won't be any left over by lunchtime.
Mostly, though, the cake just reminds me of summer. Maybe that's because I've made it so many times these past few months. The first time I made it was in the kitchen of a summer rental—one of those notoriously under-stocked kitchens. There was no mixer (I had to mix the cake by hand) and I softened my butter too aggressively (read: I accidentally melted it in the microwave). It didn't matter; the cake was perfect. And that's why I've returned to it so many times—it's very hard to mess up. There are, however, a few ways you can make it even better.
The batter is already flavored with the tang of buttermilk and a little vanilla. Still, this is a simple composition, and it can handle a few embellishments. Grated lemon zest is the obvious choice here (particularly good with blueberries and blackberries). A bit of ground cinnamon if you're using plums. Almond extract instead of vanilla extract. For that matter, you can add almonds themselves—a handful of slivered ones to mingle with the sugary top.
As I said, this cake can go raspberry or blackberry or blueberry. It also works with sliced strawberries, sliced plums, and sliced peaches. Firmer fall fruits like pears and apples would work if they're softened in butter first (this is where I'd add cinnamon, or maybe black pepper), but I'll be honest: I've tried this with figs and didn't love the results. Stick to the summer fruits, and find a heartier cake for the autumn crop.
Tossing the fruit with a little sugar before you pile it over the batter does two things: It corrects for any extra-tart fruit, and it encourages the fruit to become even jammier as it bakes. I also sprinkle the top with a little more sugar that the recipe calls. That ensures a crackly, crispy top—the only embellishment this homey, down-to-earth cake needs.
