White Chocolate Cardamom Cake with Poached Pears

This weekend, I went diving deeply into my recipe archives to pull out something special; a cake to surprise and delight some special house guests.

This White Chocolate Cardamom Cake w/Whole Pears was just the thing.

I originally posted the recipe on this site in January of 2014. Freshly retired from professional endurance racing, we had recently moved the Bay Area to Portland and were in limbo about the next chapter. I was learning to make a stand for myself, learning to slow down…for the first time.

Laughing out loud, tears came to my eyes as I remembered that period of life; glorious and freeing, petrifying and terse all at the same time.

I loved reading that slightly younger me was exploring the unknown by baking herself a cake because the Slightly-Older me was looking for a cake to bake for such a purpose.

Despite the uncertainty I wrote about in this post, I know now that a cake (like this Cardamom Cake w/Whole Pears + White Chocolate) is sometimes just what I need to feel grounded and well-cared for. Buttery, rich, deep with flavor and with a scent that’s undeniable comfort.

The post (and the Cardamom Cake) reminded me that life is both linear and completely non-linear. The places we’ve been are leading to the places we’re going – for certain. But it certainly doesn’t mean that our paths may not backtrack, that we won’t find ourselves in the same woods over and over again.

But, it is true that at some point we find our way out of them. Sometimes, with a Cardamom Cake w/Whole Pears + White Chocolate in our hands. And also that though things may change around us, our little hearts often remain the same.

My heart – clearly – still in love with making a cake as fragrant + decadent as this one.

The idea for this recipe came originally from this book of Yvette Van Boven’s and was printed with permission from Yvette’s team of colleagues at Abrams Books (thank you!) It was one of just a handful of books I had with me as we were in our transition and all of our belongings were in storage, every other page marked with a cheery purple “to-cook” flag, occasionally receiving a dusting of flour from flurries of kitchen passion. I’ve made a few adaptations to this version, that suit the Older Me.

I so enjoyed the words of Younger Me, I’ve left an excerpt of the original post below.

I’ve learned a lot about breaking the mold this winter. My own mold, especially.

Prior to October, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you the last time I allowed a whole day to slip away while I was reading on the couch in my jammies. Or a morning that had unfolded without color-coded lists being carefully organized; a night without a pre-hatched plan for dinner; when the laundry wasn’t folded straight from the dryer and I’d had a great nights rest more than two nights in a row. I couldn’t have told you the last time when – annoyingly enough – something (these things + more) didn’t come easily to me. And, I certainly wouldn’t have been able to tell you that I had woken before the sun, forgoing a swim or trail run (my strict morning routine,) to bake a rich, fragrant, delicious cake, filling the house with sweet warmth instead of adrenaline.

This cake wasn’t an accident or an obligation; it just felt like the thing to do. When you’ve jam-packed your life and comprised your identity with tasks and obligations, you must let something go before you can bring anything else in. Like substituting cake for sweat on a winter’s morning.

I hope that this cake feels like “just the right thing to do,” for you – too. Especially with the holidays upon us. And I hope that this cake; its scent, and everything it stands for – a deep comfort from within – fill your kitchen with what you need this time of year. Enjoy!