Mrs Bailey’s Plum Cake

In many respects, plums are the universal fruit, as well as very possibly the juiciest. They can be eaten fresh, of course, and you are welcome to do so, as long as you don’t mind sticky fingers and have a napkin handy to wipe your chin. Beyond that, though, they can be baked into pies and tarts and more; they can be pickled, jarred or canned; they can be preserved any number of ways; they can be dried, salted or otherwise; they can make chutney and plum pudding, and a thousand other things.

And jam. They can always, always make jam. Let it be admitted, the Crater School girls tend to greet the appearance of plum jam on the table at teatime with a ritual groan, which always brings a scowl to Mrs Bailey’s expressive face. The Pioneers — and every Crater School girl is a Pioneer, because who’d want to miss out on so much fun? — even have a song they like to sing around the campfire, to the tune of “Green Grow the Rushes-Oh”, which counts down to “Jam is jam and always plum and evermore shall beee sooooo.”

This does not, of course, stop the girls devouring that same jam with relish.

Sometimes, though, Mrs Bailey will take pity on them. At the start of the season, when the first plums are ripe but still firm, she will bake cakes for tea and smile at the cheer that rolls down to the kitchen from the dining hall above.

For the topping,

100g sugar

60g flour

generous pinch of cinnamon

90g cold salted butter (or use unsalted and add a pinch of salt)

Mix the dry ingredients together, then either rub or cut in the butter (or pulse in a food processor, as I do). Leave it to chill in the fridge.

For the cake:

120g flour

teaspoon of baking powder

half a teaspoon of baking soda

half a teaspoon of salt

grind of fresh nutmeg, or pinch of preground

zest of an orange

225g butter

150 g vanilla sugar (or use regular sugar and add a teaspoon of vanilla extract or paste)

2 eggs (I use duck eggs, but large hen’s eggs are fine)

250g yogurt

a dozen firm, ripe plums, stoned and cut into large chunks

Preheat the oven to 350F. Line a nine-inch springform tin with parchment paper and butter generously.

Mix the flour, rising agents, salt, nutmeg and orange zest together and set aside.

Cream the butter and sugar together until pale and fluffy (I use a stand mixer; an electric hand mixer will also do the job; my mother would do this by hand, because my mother was awesome and didn’t have all these fancy electric gadgets). Beat the eggs and add them one by one; add the vanilla. Add a third of the flour, then a third of the yogurt. Repeat, and repeat again.

Scrape the batter into the pan and level off. Top with the plums, then scatter the topping over in a generous layer. Set on a rimmed baking tray in case of leakage, and bake for an hour, then check (I tend to give it ten minutes more, until a knife comes out hot — yes, I am one of those who tests it on his lip to see if it burns yet — and relatively clean, although this is a soft, moist cake). Stand on a wire rack for half an hour, then release it from the pan. It’ll be delicious cold, but it’s also really good served warm, with pouring cream in the grand British tradition.