The bananas were almost gone. Not in the trash sense—just on the edge. Speckled, soft, the kind you peel with apology.
It had been a long week. A loud one. Mae said I needed something “lush.”
I didn’t know what that meant until I smelled pineapple and cinnamon warming the kitchen air at the same time.
Martha calls this a cake.
It felt more like a reminder.
That sweet things can also be heavy. That frosting isn’t just decoration. That some desserts try to hold you, not impress you.
What the Original Looked Like
Her Highness doesn’t hold back on this one.
Three cups of flour. Two full cups of mashed banana. Pineapple, coconut, chopped walnuts. Cream cheese frosting. And those pineapple flowers—like something from a table in Savannah.
The batter reads like a contradiction: chunky, floral, creamy, tropical. But it bakes into something grounded.
Two golden layers. Soft crumb. Thick frosting. Sweet but not sugary.
It’s not subtle. It’s not trying to be.
It’s the kind of cake you make when you need everyone to hush for a second.
What I Did Differently
Didn’t have walnuts—used pecans.
Used sweetened coconut instead of unsweetened. The kind in the back of the freezer from last spring.
Forgot to butter the parchment. One cake stuck. I pieced it back together like a quilt. It still tasted like joy.
The Way It Happened in My Kitchen
The bananas squished in my hands as I mashed them.
The pineapple juice dripped off the edge of the counter and I let it.
The batter was thick and lumpy and alive.
I used the green Pyrex bowl again. The one that’s been through everything. The one that’s still here.
Mae walked in during the first bake and asked why it smelled like Christmas and the beach.
She wasn’t wrong.
The cakes rose slow and golden. The edges pulled away like they were ready to be left alone.
I almost cried spreading the frosting. Not because I was sad. Because it felt like I was doing something nice for someone—me, this time.
A Few Things I Learned While It Baked
Bananas don’t ask for much, but they give a lot.
Pineapple makes any room feel warmer.
Frosting isn’t always optional—it’s sometimes the point.
What I Did With the Extras
Wrapped slices in foil and gave them to neighbors.
Left one on Mae’s desk with a note that said “be gentle.”
Ate one standing at the sink. It was cold. Still perfect.
Would I Make It Again?
Yes.
For birthdays. For breakups. For Sunday afternoons with no noise.
For myself. Again and again.
That’s As Much As I Remember
The flowers dried slow. The cake held its shape.
And the sweetness stayed longer than expected.
If you want something that doesn’t need frosting but still heals a bit, I did Martha’s banana bread last month. Simple. Brave. Steady.
FAQs
you can. but they’re magic. they make the cake feel like it came from a story.
sort of. but more elegant. richer. like banana bread that grew up and learned to dance.
yes. it gets even better the next day, cold from the fridge with the frosting firm.
yes. just drain it well. you don’t want a soggy batter.
sure. pecans, almonds, even hazelnuts. but don’t skip the crunch. the cake needs contrast.
Martha Stewart’s Hummingbird Cake – Nell’s Version
Description
Soft, sweet, and heavy in a comforting way. The kind of dessert that listens more than it speaks.
Ingredients
For the Dried Pineapple Flowers
For the Cake
Instructions
- Make the pineapple flowers. preheat oven to 225°F (110°C). line two baking sheets with parchment. slice peeled pineapple very thin. bake 30 minutes, flip, bake 25–30 more. let cool and curl on a rack.
- Prep the cake pans. increase oven to 350°F (175°C). butter two 9-inch round pans, line bottoms with parchment, butter again, dust with flour. tap out excess.
- Combine the dry ingredients. sift flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt into a bowl. set aside.
- Mix the wet ingredients. in a large bowl, beat oil, vanilla, and sugar with a mixer for 2 minutes. add eggs one at a time. beat until fluffy and pale yellow, about 3 minutes.
- Fold in fruit and nuts. stir mashed banana, pineapple, nuts, and coconut in a separate bowl. add to wet mixture. stir gently.
- Add the dry ingredients. gradually add flour mixture. stir just until combined. don’t overmix.
- Bake the cake. divide batter between pans. bake 30–40 minutes, rotating halfway. they’re done when golden and a toothpick comes out mostly clean.
- Cool the cakes. let them sit in pans 15 minutes. run a knife around the edges, invert onto racks. cool completely.
- Frost and decorate. frost with cream cheese frosting. top with pineapple flowers like you mean it.