Spiced apple and salted caramel lava cakes
Moist apple-spice-cake with a molten salted caramel interior, it's like fall on a plate, but better, because anything with salted caramel is ten times better. Not to mention that apples and caramel belong together. End of story.
I am well aware that many of you visit this little corner of the internet to read up on the conflicting stories and history of food and the secret plots to cover it up. This time I am afraid I'm going to disappoint you, but I will more than make it up to you with the recipe because it is so good who cares who came up with it.
All that lies behind this apple and caramel concoction is my imagination. She says while patting herself on the back.
Let me tell you that this dessert is life-changing, because like I said, it's apples and caramel for crying out loud.
But the best part of it is how incredibly easy it is to make. Except for the time spent waiting for the caramel center to freeze, the whole thing can be whipped up in a matter of minutes.
This foolproof recipe took me ages to perfect. By the time I nailed it, we had caramel-apple not-so-lava-cake coming out of our ears. For some reason, homemade caramel sauce did not seem to work. It would just get reabsorbed into the cake no matter how liquid I made it or how well I froze it.
The trial cakes were delicious, but they lacked that extra wow factor.
Every time the cakes came out of the oven, I would flip them out of the ramekins. Frenchie and I both spoon in hand, enthusiastically looking at those cakes, thinking about that exact moment you pierce into a lava cake and have that liquid center ooze out.
All that expectation only to have the most anticlimactic first bite. Sure the cakes were delicious, but they lacked that molten salted caramel center that I promised to deliver.
Frenchie told me that that was good enough and that maybe caramel would never seep out of my cakes no matter how hard I tried. But what does he know, he's an offshore wind engineer and much to my dismay the least food-oriented person I know.
It was back to the drawing boards or the kitchen in this case.
And then it hit me! I was talking to my mom about Colombian sweets when we both remembered AREQUIPE, Colombian for dulce de leche.
That thick creamy amber-colored goodness. That delicious caramel spread that Colombians will generously slather over everything. It's a question of our national identity and pride. And no Colombian ever will be caught dead saying Dulce de Leche.
Moist apple-spice-cake with a molten salted caramel interior, it's like fall on a plate, but better, because anything with salted caramel is ten times better. Not to mention that apples and caramel belong together. End of story.
I am well aware that many of you visit this little corner of the internet to read up on the conflicting stories and history of food and the secret plots to cover it up. This time I am afraid I'm going to disappoint you, but I will more than make it up to you with the recipe because it is so good who cares who came up with it.
All that lies behind this apple and caramel concoction is my imagination. She says while patting herself on the back.
Let me tell you that this dessert is life-changing, because like I said, it's apples and caramel for crying out loud.
But the best part of it is how incredibly easy it is to make. Except for the time spent waiting for the caramel center to freeze, the whole thing can be whipped up in a matter of minutes.
This foolproof recipe took me ages to perfect. By the time I nailed it, we had caramel-apple not-so-lava-cake coming out of our ears. For some reason, homemade caramel sauce did not seem to work. It would just get reabsorbed into the cake no matter how liquid I made it or how well I froze it.
The trial cakes were delicious, but they lacked that extra wow factor.
Every time the cakes came out of the oven, I would flip them out of the ramekins. Frenchie and I both spoon in hand, enthusiastically looking at those cakes, thinking about that exact moment you pierce into a lava cake and have that liquid center ooze out.
All that expectation only to have the most anticlimactic first bite. Sure the cakes were delicious, but they lacked that molten salted caramel center that I promised to deliver.
Frenchie told me that that was good enough and that maybe caramel would never seep out of my cakes no matter how hard I tried. But what does he know, he's an offshore wind engineer and much to my dismay the least food-oriented person I know.
It was back to the drawing boards or the kitchen in this case.
And then it hit me! I was talking to my mom about Colombian sweets when we both remembered AREQUIPE, Colombian for dulce de leche.
That thick creamy amber-colored goodness. That delicious caramel spread that Colombians will generously slather over everything. It's a question of our national identity and pride. And no Colombian ever will be caught dead saying Dulce de Leche.
I have to admit I wasn't so into arequipe. I used to find it a bit too sweet and preferred butterscotch or salted caramel. I could kick my old self. But as usual, absence makes the heart grow stronger, and so I find myself yearning for arequipe like never before.
Could I swap that homemade salted caramel for arequipe adding a bit of salt to get that same flavor? It sounded like a great idea, but would it work?
I opened my cupboard, searching for arequipe only to find my stash entirely depleted, except for a specialty coconut arequipe, which was a no go or this recipe. I had to improvise.
Determined to make these cakes work, I dashed over to the supermarket. I picked up a can of sweetened condensed milk and a can of caramel that looked just like arequipe. I also picked up a full cart of groceries that I didn't need because I can't help myself when food shopping, but that's beside the point.
Turns out that can of caramel was arequipe. I was delighted! Not only were my little cakes a step closer to fruition, but Colombian desserts in England here I come!
FYI you can make arequipe at home if you can't find dulce de leche at your supermarket by boiling a can of sweetened condensed milk for around 3 hours.
I started experimenting with the "caramel", and after a few trials, I cracked it!
My freezer looked like a lab. Scratch that my kitchen looked like a lab. I had a bunch of trays with arequipe variations all neatly labeled, of course, in my bread and veggie drawers. The contents of said drawers all spread over the kitchen island. It was a great moment to sort through my freezer and clean out my fridge, while I anxiously waited for the caramel to freeze.
When they looked solid enough I whipped up the cake batter and added a little extra apple for tartness and just a bit extra cinnamon and ginger for warmth.
I poured the cake batter halfway into the greased ramekins. I added the frozen arequipe and then topped it off with another dollop of the apple mixture. I crossed my fingers and popped them in the oven.
All that was left to do was pray to the cake fairies and hope that it would work.
The buzzer went off. Excitement and pastry expectations were high. I knew I could only make Frenchie eat one more before he would tell me to throw in the towel. So just in case, I kept quiet.
I took them out of the oven. If I would have left in for too long, that silky caramel center would disappear, and I had already had one too many Houdini-like caramel fiascos.
So there I was with my ramekin upside-down. I carefully lifted the container, holding my breath the whole time. The cake unmolded perfectly. I still wasn't breathing, which in retrospect, make me realize how seriously I take baking.
I grabbed a spoon, took a deep breath, finally, and pierced the cake with my spoon. I reluctantly opened one eye. Much to my amazement there it was that beautiful amber puddle.
I was in the middle of performing a choreographed happy dance with my spoon when the kitchen door flung open. Frenchie was looking at me with the most puzzled face. I could almost tell he was wondering if he might regret having tied the knot to this nut job.
And then he glanced at the counter and saw that beautiful apple cake surrounded by that liquid caramel. It all made sense now.
"You did it!" he said. Only to complain seconds later that I didn't call him and that I was keeping this cake to myself. I handed him a spoon and saw his face light up immediately.
I continued to dance, a bit less energetically, while he grinned at me. I wish I could get that man properly worked-up about cake, but that's another story.
I highly recommend that you go out and get yourself a can of caramel, dulce de leche, arequipe, or even a can of condensed milk and the tartest apples you can find and make these.
Because once you dive your spoon into that apple-and-caramel goodness, I can assure you will be dancing in your kitchen as well.
Salted caramel and apple lava cakes
ingredients:
- 4 tbsp arequipe, dulce de leche or homemade caramel
- 1 tbsp (15 g) melted butter
- 1 tbsp milk
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 85 g (6 tbsp) butter
- 85 g (3/4 cups) flour
- 2 large eggs
- 85 g (1/3 cup) sugar
- 1 large apple, grated
- 1/2 tsp baking powder
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 1 tsp vanilla
- 1 tsp ginger
- 1/4 tsp cloves
- 1/2 tsp salt
instructions:
How to cook Salted caramel and apple lava cakes
- Mix all ingredients together.
- Place the caramel mixture in the freezer to firm up and leave for two hours. Note the caramel will never completely freeze because of the high sugar content, but rather will be a firmed up tacky caramel.
- Preheat the oven to 350°C (180°F)
- Grease and flour ramekins
- Whisk together the flour, the baking powder, the salt, and the spices and set aside.
- In a mixing bowl combine the butter, sugar, and vanilla. Beat on medium-high speed until pale and double in volume.
- Add eggs, one a time and scrape down bowl each time.
- Add in flour and mix until well combined.
- Add grated apple and continue to mix.
- Scrape down bowl and mix again.
- Pour a couple of tablespoons of mixture into a ramekin, stopping around half-way full.
- Add a spoonful of the caramel mixture and top with another dollop of cake batter.
- Repeat with the remaining ramekins.
- Bake for 15 to 20 minutes or until just cooked. This step is crucial if the cakes are overcooked, the caramel filling will get absorbed into the cake.
- Unmold and serve while still hot for that center to ooze out. If the cakes are allowed to cool completely the caramel center will also disappear.
- Enjoy!
Did you make this recipe?
