A Midsummer Day's Dream . . . Cream Cheese Nectarine Cake with Crumbly Streusel

Nectarines . . . really fine, really sweet nectarines. Not something one can necessarily count on finding here in Michigan. Usually, though, that doesn't matter. Why? Because typically, in mid-July, we're wallowing in a surplus of glorious local cherries, baking them into this and stirring them into that, not giving those pretty nectarines from out of state a second thought. But late winter weather played holy havoc with Michigan's cherry orchards this year, leaving us with the most pathetic harvest in decades. Trees that would normally be bending under the weight of crimson fruit look instead as if they've been ever so lightly dotted with red.  Just a cherry here, a cherry there. Sorry, folks--forget about "pickin' your own" and keep your fingers crossed for next year.

No home-grown cherries? For born and bred Michiganders that scenario is virtually unheard of. So, nothing left to do but rev up the contingency plans. Time to focus on nectarines instead, nectarines that hail inevitably from elsewhere. A sobering thought, no doubt. Miraculously, though, they're incredibly sweet and more than up to snuff. I've been shocked by their quality, thus I've been munching them the last few days with an unbridled sense of righteous privilege, like a koala in a eucalyptus tree. Don't try to stop me.

About this recipe . . . 

I adapted this from The Grand Central Baking Book, by Piper Davis and Ellen Jackson (I love this book, by the way, and recommend it). I started with their recipe for a cream cheese apple cake, but made some significant tweaks.

First, I reduced the overall size of the recipe by about one third, from one that would produce a large 12" bundt cake down to a reasonably sized 9" round cake made in springform pan. I used a relatively small amount of chopped ripe nectarines, unpeeled, in the batter versus a sizable portion of peeled apples. I added in a modest amount of almond flour/meal (if you can't find it in your usual grocery store, check at Trader Joe's, Whole Foods, or health food stores), which lends a subtle richness to the texture without adding any overt almond flavor. I upped the amount of vanilla, in fact using vanilla bean paste instead of extract, and I also fiddled with the proportion of cinnamon. 


The addition of a streusel topping worked out well, too; I just threw together flour, sugar, almond flour/meal, cold butter, and a pinch of fine sea salt and went at it with a pastry blender. You can count on a cake that happily straddles the fence between a coffee cake and a not-too-dense pound cake. A great cake overall, even without our beloved Michigan cherries.

Cream Cheese Nectarine Cake with Crumbly Streusel


(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!)

Yield: About 16 slices

For the cake:
2 and 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 cup almond flour/meal
1 teaspoon baking powder
2/3 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2/3 cup unsalted butter, softened (that's one stick and about 2.5 tablespoons)
8 oz. cream cheese
2 cups granulated sugar
3 large eggs, room temperature
1 and 1/2 teaspoons vanilla bean paste (or vanilla extract)
1 extra-large ripe nectarine, unpeeled, pitted, and chopped into very small pieces

For the streusel:
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup almond meal/flour
1/4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
5 tablespoons of cold, unsalted butter, cut into small chunks
1 pinch fine-grain sea salt

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour a 9" springform pan.

Make the streusel first:

In a medium bowl, whisk together the sugar, almond meal/flour, and all purpose flour. Toss in the butter chunks and combine with a pastry blender or a fork until most of the mixture is in pieces approximately the size of a large pea. Cover the bowl and put it in the fridge.

To make the cake batter:

In a medium bowl, lightly whisk together the flour, almond flour/meal, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon. Set aside.

In the large bowl of your mixer, using the paddle attachment on medium-high speed, beat together the butter, cream cheese, and sugar until the mixture is fluffy and light in color (beat for at least five minutes and as long as eight). On low speed, add in all of the vanilla, and add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each one. Stop and scrape the bowl and paddle periodically.

Still on low speed, add in all of the nectarine pieces, beating just for a few seconds to combine, then add in all of the dry ingredients. Mix only until the flour looks completely incorporated. Scrape all the batter into your greased and floured cake pan. Sprinkle all of the streusel evenly over the top.

Bake the cake on the middle rack of the oven for about 55-65 minutes. You'll know it's done when the top is lightly golden, the sides are just beginning to pull away from the pan, the top of the cake doesn't jiggle at all when you move it, and a toothpick inserted in the center come out mostly dry. Check your cake after about 40 minutes and if it appears to be browning too fast, lay a piece of foil loosely over the top. Let the finished cake cool in its pan on a rack for at least 15 minutes, then run a thin knife around the sides, remove the springform carefully, and let the cake finish cooling on the rack.

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Fresh Sweet Cherry & Nectarine Upside-Down Cake . . . with Honey Whipped Cream

As a kid, the only upside-down cake I ever encountered was the classic pineapple ring and maraschino cherry model. I couldn't stand the stuff. As I recall, my dad adored it. He was the only one in the family who showed unfettered interest. Not even my mom, devoted dessert lover that she was, could bring herself to crave the canned-fruit laden cake. As a rule, it was atrociously sweet, sodden with that sugary syrup and just not an altogether great concept. She'd make it for him, of course, but the woman had her standards; given the choice, she would always have opted for a slice of something chocolate.

I guess it's no surprise, then, why I've never launched with abandon into the production of that sticky, inverted confection. Those pineapple cakes may be endearing in a retro sort of way, but not enough so to motivate me into actually baking one. No siree.

But this cherry and nectarine upside-down cake, on the other hand, while bearing some resemblance to that toothache-inspiring item of yesteryear, isn't as cloying. Made with thin slices of ripe nectarine, fresh sweet cherries, honey, plain yogurt, a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg, and a teeny tiny splash of peach schnapps thrown in to jazz things up, this baby's an improvement on that fusty old relic.

In fact, were the two cakes to pass on the street, I'd wager they'd acknowledge each other with a polite nod but, figuring they hadn't much in common, the pair wouldn't even stop to chat.

About this recipe . . .

Today's cake is adapted from a recipe in the gargantuan volume, Bon Appetit Desserts. It's a dream of a cookbook and, with 700+ pages, it's heavier than heck. Weighing in at 6.5 lbs., it's the size of a full-term newborn. They should sell it with a complementary stroller so readers can cart it around the house. Or, better yet, a forklift.

I customized the original recipe, which called for peaches along with a lot of spicy cardamom. What did I alter? In addition to using a combo of nectarines and cherries instead of peaches, I omitted the cardamom entirely, using just a little cinnamon and a scant pinch of nutmeg instead. I also added in a wee dab of peach schnapps, for a bit of zing, and I slightly increased the amount of salt (coarse kosher). Threw in the seeds of half a vanilla bean, and reduced the amount of granulated sugar in the cake by a small margin. In the honey whipped cream topping, I used less than half the amount of honey called for. (Have you ever mixed honey with heavy cream before? Fact is, you need a remarkably small amount to get the desired effect.)

With the adjustments, this cake is still sweet, but not ridiculously so. Some sweetness is just the nature of an upside-down cake. The flip-it-over-while-it's-still-really-hot concept wouldn't work without that gooey glaze permeating the top/bottom of the cake. In any case, if you want a concentrated sweetness infusion, an upside-down cake is definitely the ticket.

Fresh Sweet Cherry & Nectarine Upside-Down Cake 
with Honey Whipped Cream


(For a printable version of this recipe, click here!) 

Yield: One 9" one-layer cake

6 Tbsp. (3/4 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature (divided use)
1/4 honey (I used clover honey.)
1/4 cup light brown sugar, packed
1 and 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
Scant 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 pinch ground nutmeg
1/4 tsp. baking soda
Scant 1/2 tsp. coarse kosher salt
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1 egg, large
2 tsp. peach schnapps (optional)
seeds of half a vanilla bean (or, 1 tsp of vanilla extract)
1/2 cup plain whole-milk yogurt
2 medium size nectarines, pitted and thinly sliced in crescents (about 1/4" thick)
Approximately 16 fresh sweet cherries, pitted

For the honey whipped cream:
(Note: The original recipe suggested adding a little plain yogurt into this mixture. I didn't try that, but thought I'd mention it in case you'd like to give it a whirl!)
1 cup heavy cream, very cold
2 tsp. honey (Or use up to 2 Tbsp. if you want really sweet whipped cream.) 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and place rack in middle of oven. Liberally butter the bottom and sides of a 9" round cake pan. (After buttering, I took the extra step of lightly spraying the pan with vegetable oil spray; as far as I'm concerned, one can't be too careful where inverted cakes are concerned.)

In a medium size sauce pan, melt 2 Tbsp. of the unsalted butter. Add into that the brown sugar and the honey. Cook on medium high heat until the mixture begins to boil; stirring often, let boil for about 2 minutes or until the mixture begins to darken just a bit.

Remove the pan from the heat and immediately pour all of it into the buttered pan. Set the pan aside; the syrup will harden in the pan while you're preparing the rest of the cake.



 In a small bowl, whisk together the flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, baking soda, and kosher salt. In the bowl of your mixer, using the paddle attachment on medium high speed, combine the remaining butter and the granulated sugar until it looks somewhat fluffy. Beat the egg into this on medium speed, along with the vanilla been seeds, and the peach schnapps.

Pour in half the flour mixture on medium speed just until well blended; blend in all of the yogurt. Add in the remaining flour on low speed, just until blended.

Arrange the nectarine slices (you may not need to use them all) in a spiral design around the edge of the cake pan, over the hardened syrup. Arrange the cherries similarly in the middle of the nectarine spiral. Using a spoon, gently dollop the soft batter over the fruit, being wary not to disrupt the design. Smooth the top of the batter carefully to completely cover all of the fruit.

Bake the cake in the preheated oven for 35 to 40 minutes, or until the cake is golden and the sides begin to pull away from the sides of the pan.

Let the finished cake cool for only 5 minutes after removing it from the oven. At that point, have your serving platter ready and place it snuggly over the top of the cake.

Quickly invert the hot cake pan onto the platter and delicately lift the hot pan off. If all goes well, you'll be faced with a lovely fruit design atop a glistening cake. Let the cake cool before slicing.

To make the honey whipped cream: 

Whip the cream in your mixer on medium speed in a chilled bowl. Drizzle the honey in and whip until the cream forms soft peaks. Add more honey to taste, if you'd prefer the whipped cream to be sweeter. Keep refrigerated and serve over individual slices of the cake.

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Peach-Blueberry Cake . . . or, if you prefer, Nectarine-Blueberry Cake . . .

When I was expecting a baby in July of 1996, late in my third trimester, I was hungry. My doctor had advised me in those last couple of weeks to keep my weight steady, not to gain, and I was carefully adhering to his advice. I was also, apparently, clipping recipes from magazines for delectable baked goods I would have to indefinitely put off trying out. (I think I must have been really hungry.) One such item was this cake recipe, which surfaced recently in a little black notebook where I had taped it neatly for future use.

Now, I'm not in the habit of neatly taping things into notebooks, so it was probably the nesting instinct that made me do that. I was nesting alright. One look at the military precision with which I had organized the baby's room--particularly all the paraphernalia on the changing table--attested to this. Everything in it's proper place, right down to the Desitin and baby wipes. I was prepared. Newborn-sized diapers stood at attention in neat little stacks, just awaiting the signal to spring into action. Yes, we women can be astoundingly organized when new babies impel us to be so (we're amazing that way, aren't we?). And, apparently, clipping recipes for baked delicacies I could not eat at the time, was just another outlet for my obvious need to systemize things before the Big Event.

Anyway, until yesterday I'd never tested out this summery cake recipe and, this being summer and all, I figured I might as well finally give it a go. The original recipe's title, Peach-Blueberry Pound Cake, is something of a misnomer. This is not--in my sole opinion--a pound cake, thus I have changed the name of the recipe below to reflect that. It doesn't really have the density or texture of a pound cake, and the process for putting it together doesn't mirror the majority of garden-variety pound cake formulas that I've ever seen. (It doesn't even call for any sort of extract or flavoring at all--that in itself is uncustomary, don't you think?) It is a good cake, but I'd say it straddles the fence between being a coffee cake and a huge cake-shaped muffin. You can hold a piece of it in your hand to eat it, or savor it with a fork. Your choice.

It was originally intended to be made with peaches but I just had nectarines on hand so I used those and they worked out fine. Besides that minor change, the only other thing I altered was to reduce the total amount of fruit required. I thought the recipe called for significantly more fruit than could be absorbed, or supported if you will, by the cakey part itself. I am pretty sure I was on target. The amount of fruit in the version of the recipe I prepared seems just right. It's a rather light cake, actually, and it would be very at home served along with a special breakfast or brunch, though it also makes a perfectly respectable dessert. It could probably be dolled up with a little dollop of whipped cream on top, to make it even more respectable.

So, without further ado . . .


Peach-Blueberry Cake (aka, Nectarine-Blueberry Cake)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour, or use baking spray to coat (that's always the easiest option when you're dealing with a funny shaped pan), a 10" tube pan with a removable bottom.

1/2 cup butter, unsalted
1/4 cup milk (I used 2 percent; any kind will probably work fine)
4 or 5 medium-sized nectarines or peaches, fully ripe if possible (to yield about 1 and 3/4 cups fruit, when cut up)
1 pint (2 cups) blueberries, picked over, rinsed, and lightly dried with paper towel
3 large eggs, at room temperature
1 and 1/4 cups granulated sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
2 and 1/2 cups cake flour, unsifted (I suspect this cake could safely be made with All Purpose flour too, with no serious repercussions; next time I think I may try that)

Heat milk and butter in a small sauce pan until butter melts. Set aside to cool slightly.

Peel and slice peaches/nectarines into 1/2" chunks. (If you like, blanch and shock them first to make removing the skin much easier; this works extremely well with very ripe fruit, particularly peaches, but not so well with really firm, less ripe fruit.) Set the chopped fruit aside.


Beat the eggs and sugar in a large mixer bowl until they're thick and and pale, for about 5 minutes.

On low speed, mix in the baking powder and salt. Add the flour in two additions, alternately with the warm butter mixture, until thoroughly combined.

Fold in all of the fruit gently.


Pour the batter into the pan and smooth out the top. (The batter is quite sticky.)


Bake for up to one hour, or until a toothpick inserted comes out clean. (My cake took only about 50 minutes, but my oven is notoriously hyperactive.)

Let the cake cool, in the pan, on a rack for about half an hour. Run a very thin knife or spatula around the sides of the cake to help loosen it from the pan. Remove the outer portion of the pan, and let the cake finish cooling completely on its base before inverting the cake onto the rack, and then flipping it back onto its serving plate so the top is right-side up.



P.S. That 1996 baby was a boy, and when he saw me making this cake yesterday he said (in kind of a whiney voice), "Mommm, how come you're always making all kinds of other things lately, and not chocolate chip cookies???" So pitiful was his mournful plea, I decided to be merciful. So I'm off now to make a little batch of the cookie-that-never-fails-to-please-adolescent-boys, the mighty chocolate chip. Till next time . . .

Recipe Full Disclosure! This recipe, in its original form, appeared in the May 1996 issue of Woman's Day magazine, and it was titled, "Peach-Blueberry Poundcake."

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Peach Bread . . . with Nectarines? (What's wrong with this picture? Nothing!)

Can peaches and nectarines fraternize successfully? Is one more deserving of respect than the other? My opinion? "Yes" to the former, and a resounding "no" to the latter.

There are those among us who cringe at the velveteen-like fuzz of the peach, the same way we recoil at fingernails on a chalkboard (my mother was one of these--she hated touching the fuzz), while others turn up their nose at the poor smooth-skinned nectarine. We always hear the phrase "peaches and cream," but never "nectarines and cream". . . why is that?

Did you know, though, that the nectarine is not a cross between a peach and a plum? That's the old wives' tale I'd always heard growing up. And, experts believe that peaches and nectarines in all likelihood have a "parallel history." Apparently, the two fruits share the same seed heritage. Agricultural scholars inform us that peach/nectarine seeds made their way to Persia from China, then travelled on to Greece and Rome. From there they meandered into the balmier areas of Europe, as seeds, not unlike people, are wont to do. We have the Spaniards to thank for bringing peach/nectarine trees and seeds to the New World via none other than Christopher Columbus. At some point in the 1500's, the trees were recorded as growing in Mexico. And Mexico, as we all know, is snuggled right next to America. Fraternization? Oh, I think so.

So, with that historical foundation firmly established, I feel justified at this point in telling you that this morning I used the fruit of both to make a hearty loaf of what I'll refer to simply as peach bread. I didn't have enough pieces of either fruit on their own for the whole loaf. But that was fine, because once peeled, cut up, and tossed in my bowl, the two fruits yielded the perfect amount, and they mingled together most harmoniously.

Unless you have remarkable children who are dietarily enlightened, this quick bread will probably hold more appeal for the adults in your household. It's not very sweet, and it contains not only a good portion of whole wheat flour but also oatmeal. And, while my intention is not to shock, I feel compelled to inform you that it contains . . . no butter or heavy cream! Just a modest amount of canola/vegetable oil. (You okay? Take a deep breath . . . and another . . . I know I'm venturing outside of the usual Jane's Sweets comfort zone here.)

This recipe is very much like one in the King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking cookbook called Peach Oatmeal Bread. The differences in my version are the inclusion of a small portion of AP flour, and 25 percent less whole wheat flour; larger-sized chunks of not just peach, but also nectarine, than their recipe calls for; and, more almond extract. I've renamed the recipe Whole Wheat Peach Bread because the flavor of the whole wheat is very evident, and the oatmeal flavor is secondary. I've also simplified the directions a bit without leaving out anything crucial.

I've baked this bread a couple of times before. The first time my fruit was so wet and juicy that the whole loaf, though deliciously flavored, was simply way too moist. The second time I overcompensated, trying to avoid a repeat of the first loaf, and that one came out too dry; I overbaked it and I'd used relatively dry fresh fruit. This time, I tried for a happy medium and I think it worked out well. Though, as I said, this bread contains no butter, it is very tasty if eaten warm with a little butter on it. (It's great toasted with butter on it, in fact.)


Whole Wheat Peach Bread

2 cups peeled, sliced peaches and/or nectarines, cut into 1/2 inch chunks, drained in a strainer if very juicy

1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
3/4 cup unbleached bread flour
1/2 cup AP flour
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup light brown sugar, firmly packed
1 Tbsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg (use less if you're not wild about nutmeg; a little goes a long way)
1 cup old-fashioned, or quick, rolled oats

2 large eggs
1 cup milk (2% or whole--either is fine)
1/4 cup vegetable/canola oil
1 tsp. almond extract

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9" x 5" loaf pan.

Stir together all the dry ingredients--except the oats!-- in a large mixing bowl until well combined.


Now add in the oats to the combined dry ingredients, mix well. Toss in the peaches/nectarine chunks.


Stir to completely coat the peaches.


In a separate small bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, oil, and almond extract.


Pour the liquid mixture into the dry mixture, and stir just to combine until the batter is evenly moistened all around. Do not overmix.

Pour the batter into your prepared pan.

Bake on the middle rack of the oven for about 50 minutes, then check the loaf. If a tester stuck in the middle comes out pretty wet, bake another 5 minutes or so and retest.

If the top is overbrowning, at any point in the baking process, cover it loosely with foil. How long you'll ultimately need to bake the loaf will depend in large part on how moist your fruit is, so take that factor well into account. When it's done, let it cool on a rack, in the pan, for at least 15 minutes. It's a dense, heavy loaf so it takes quite a while to cool. Turn it out onto the rack and consider letting it cool almost completely before you slice it.

Makes a nice addition to any breakfast or a good, healthy snack anytime of day. Hope you like it!


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