It wasn’t warm enough for strawberries. Not really. Not the kind you’d eat barefoot in the yard with juice dripping down your wrist. But they were on sale, and I bought them anyway. They smelled like they had something to say.
Mae rolled her eyes at the checkout. “It’s April,” she said.
“I know,” I told her. “But I want June.”
So we came home. She disappeared into her room. I pulled up Martha’s strawberry cake—one I’d ripped from a magazine years ago and never made.
It looked simple. Soft. Kind. I needed that.
What the Original Looked Like
Martha’s strawberry cake is unfussy, almost shy. Not layered. Not dressed up. Just a pie plate full of golden batter, topped with halved berries and a sprinkle of sugar that bakes into something between crust and candy.
You mix butter and sugar until it looks like light. Add the flour, milk, vanilla. You don’t fold the berries in. You lay them on top—like a little offering. Then you bake it low and slow until the strawberries sink and the edges brown.
It smells like a picnic. Even if you’re standing in a kitchen wearing socks and resentment.
What I Did Differently (Without Guilt)
I didn’t sift the flour. Never do. Whisked it instead. Still worked.
Used whole milk because that’s what I had.
My butter was salted. So was my mood. Balanced out.
And I crowded the berries tighter than she said. I wanted them in every bite. And I had a few soft ones to use up.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
I beat the butter too long, zoned out listening to an old playlist Mae made me for a road trip we never took. The sugar got stuck to the sides. I scraped it down with my finger. Licked it without thinking.
The batter looked like it might be too thick, but I trusted it. Smoothed it into the pie plate. Tucked the strawberries in like they were being put to bed. Sprinkled sugar like rain.
The oven made the house smell warm. Not hot. Not stuffy. Just… warm.
Mae came down before it was done and said, “Smells like you baked a memory.”
I didn’t answer. I just smiled and let her take the first slice.
What I Learned (From Strawberries in April)
You don’t need the season to be right to want something sweet.
You just need a little butter, a little patience, and one reason to turn the oven on.
What Happened After
Mae said she didn’t like warm fruit.
Then she ate two pieces.
Then she took a photo.
Then she said, “Okay fine, this one’s different.”
Would I Make It Again?
Yes. Especially on days when I need a little June before it’s earned.
That’s What I Remember
The way the berries sank. The edges crisped. And how it tasted like the inside of a slow afternoon.
Why I’ll Make Martha’s Strawberry Cake Every Time I Need to Pretend It’s Summer
Why I Didn’t Sift the Flour
Because I never do. Because it felt like one step too many. Because the cake came out soft and golden anyway.
Because sometimes “close enough” is enough.
FAQs
yeah, but it softens a bit. wrap it tight and freeze in slices. the strawberries go a little jammy when you reheat, but honestly? not a bad thing.
totally. blueberries, raspberries, even halved plums. just keep the fruit dry-ish so the cake doesn’t get soggy.
not really. you can cream the butter and sugar by hand if you’ve got the patience or the need to work out something emotional.
yep. an 8×8 or 9-inch round works too. just watch the edges near the end—they brown faster in metal than ceramic.
nope. just enough. the berries bring their own thing. the sugar crust on top is the only drama—and it’s the good kind.
Check out More Recipes
- Martha Stewart Deviled Eggs
- Martha Stewart Carrot Cake
- Martha Stewart Mashed Potatoes
- Martha Stewart Apple Crisp
Martha Stewart Strawberry Cake
Description
Soft, golden, and just strawberry-stained enough to feel like a shortcut to summer.
Ingredients
Instructions
- Preheat the Oven: Set to 350°F (175°C). Butter your 10-inch pie plate. I used my favorite one with the chip in the rim.
- Mix the Dry Ingredients: Whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt in a bowl. No need to sift unless you need the therapy.
- Cream the Butter and Sugar: Beat butter and 1 cup sugar until light and pale. 3 minutes or until you forget what you were doing.
- Add the Wet Stuff: Mix in the egg, then the milk and vanilla. The batter will look stubborn. It softens later.
- Combine It All: Add the dry ingredients and mix just until it pulls together. Scrape into the buttered pie plate.
- Top with Strawberries: Place them cut-side down, tucked in close. Don’t be precious. Sprinkle the last 2 tbsp sugar over the top.
- Bake the Cake: Bake at 350°F for 10 minutes, then lower to 325°F (165°C) and bake for another hour. It should be golden, firm at the center, and smell like a promise.
- Top with Strawberries: Place them cut-side down, tucked in close. Don’t be precious. Sprinkle the last 2 tbsp sugar over the top.