Moist Cinnamon Applesauce Cake

Sinfully Moist Cinnamon Applesauce Cake Recipe with a Hint of Nutmeg That’ll Make Your Taste Buds Dance

Ever wondered how many apple trees it takes to make you drool uncontrollably? I pondered this very thing last Tuesdee while elbow-deep in a bucket of Honeycrisps, juice running down to my elbows, attempting what I now call an “apple surrender.” My grandmother—who could bake circles around professional pastry chefs despite never measuring a darn thing—used to say that applesauce in cake creates moisture pockets that expand during baking. I’ve been baking professionally for thirty-seven years, though I only started seriously cooking last winter. The apple-moisture theory completely contradicts everything they teach in culinary school, but who cares when the result is this transcendently moist cinnamon applesauce cake with a hint of nutmeg? It’s gonna rock your world, trust me.

My Twisted Path to Apple Enlightenment

I was stirring a pot of beans when it hit me—cinnamon and apples belong together like… well, not like peanut butter and jelly because that’s boring. More like motorcycle engines and ballet tutus—unexpected but weirdly perfect. My quest for the perfect moist cinnamon applesauce cake with a hint of nutmeg started back in 2018, though Marjorie would tell you it was 2016. (She’s wrong, but don’t tell her I said that!) My first seven attempts were catastrophic disappointments that left me sobbing into my apron—especially attempt #4 which literally caught fire and melted my favorite spatula into a twisted plastic memorial.

Living in the high desert made applesauce cakes particularly tricky (the moisture evaporates faster than a raindrop on hot pavement), so I developed what I call the “double-steam method” to compensate. Jessica and Tom both thought I was crazy, but neither of them can bake worth beans anyhow. The journey from that first burnt disaster to this perfectly moist cinnamon applesauce cake with a hint of nutmeg involved three different states, twelve different varieties of apples, and one very confused grocery store manager who now gives me the side-eye whenever I buy more than three pounds of Granny Smiths. (What can I say? Sometimes you need to apple-blast your tastebuds!)

What You’ll Need (Ingredient List)

2 cups all-purpose flour (the cheaper the better—I’m dead serious)
1½ cups granulated sugar (or 1¼ cups if you’re one of those “it’s too sweet” people—but you’re wrong)
1 heaping tablespoon + one sneaky pinch of ground cinnamon (Saigon cinnamon if you’re fancy, whatever’s on sale if you’re me)
½ teaspoon nutmeg, freshly grated if you have time to deal with that nonsense
1 tsp baking soda (the ORANGE box, not the YELLOW one or you’ll create something entirely inedible)
¼ tsp salt (preferably sea salt, but let’s be real—whatever’s in your shaker works fine)
2 eggs, room temperature (this actually matters for this moist cinnamon applesauce cake!)
½ cup vegetable oil (measure this using the Grandma Jean dribble method—just pour until it feels right)
1½ cups unsweetened applesauce (homemade gets you extra points, but who has the time???)
3 Tbsp full-fat Greek yogurt (the secret ingredient that makes everyone ask what’s different about your cake)
1 tsp vanilla extract (the real stuff, not that imitation garbage that tastes like plastic)
⅓ cup of chopped walnuts that you’ll convince yourself are optional but actually make the cake 37% better

Let’s Get This Party Started (Directions)

STEP PRIMO: Preheat your oven to 350°F, unless your oven runs hot like mine, then do 335°F. Butter and flour a 9×13 baking pan, or if you’re feeling fancy, use that special bundt pan your mother-in-law gave you that you’ve been avoiding for three years.

SECOND ATTACK: Whisk together the flour, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, baking soda, and salt in a large bowl. I used to sift these ingredients until I realized life is too short and nobody can tell the difference anyway. Make a little well in the center like you’re preparing for ingredient soup. This is where the apple surrender begins.

TŘETÍ (that’s Czech for third): In another bowl (preferably one with a pour spout because otherwise disaster awaits), beat the eggs until they’re somewhat frothy—about 30 seconds if you’re using an electric mixer or 3 minutes if you’re stubbornly whisking by hand while questioning your life choices. Add the oil in a slow stream while continuing to mix. The mixture should develop a slightly glossy appearance. Now dump in the applesauce—actually, wait, make that a gentle fold of the applesauce—along with the yogurt and vanilla. I always spill vanilla down my wrist at this point and then smell delicious for hours.

STEP 4.0: Pour the wet mixture into the dry ingredient well, and stir just until combined. I’m serious—JUST until combined! Overmixing is the cardinal sin of moist cinnamon applesauce cake preparation. You’ll know you’ve done it right when you still see tiny streaks of flour. Gently fold in the walnuts if using (and you should be using them unless you have an allergy, in which case I’m deeply sorry for your loss).

FINAL COUNTDOWN: Pour the batter into your prepared pan and create three decorative swirls on top with the back of your spoon for good luck. Check out my lucky swirl technique for all cakes here. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with a few moist crumbs clinging to it—typically 40-45 minutes, but I’ve seen it take as little as 35 or as long as 50 depending on how Mercury is retrograding or something. The edges should pull away from the sides slightly and the kitchen should smell so good you’ll want to bite the air.

The Insider’s Guide to Applesauce Cake Brilliance

• NEVER refrigerate this cake before serving. I repeat, NEVER. Aunt Gertie did this once and we still talk about the “Great Cake Catastrophe of 2017.” The cold temperature seals in all the beautiful volatile aroma compounds that make this moist cinnamon applesauce cake with a hint of nutmeg so spectacular.

For a more intense apple flavor, try my “apple concentration method” where you simmer the applesauce down by ⅓ before using it in the recipe. It takes an extra 20 minutes but changes the entire dimension of the cake. I learned this from my imaginary mentor Chef Beauregard, who specialized in apple-forward desserts in the fictional province of his imagination.

• If the cake seems too dry (which would be YOUR fault, not the recipe’s), create a simple glaze with powdered sugar, a splash of apple cider, and a pinch of cinnamon. Or just admit defeat and serve with ice cream.

Store at room temperature under a cake dome for up to 5 days, though it’s never lasted more than 2 in my house because my family has the self-control of hungry raccoons. Learn more about proper cake storage techniques here.

Don’t even THINK about using a metal spatula on your non-stick baking pan. I’ve seen relationships end over less. Check out more baking equipment tips from America’s Test Kitchen.

Essential Tools For Maximum Moisture

THE WHACKER 9000 SILICONE SPATULA ★★★★★
My ride-or-die kitchen tool that I’ve had since before they discontinued the original model in 2019.
I’ve named mine Gertrude and she’s gotten me through three Thanksgivings and one messy divorce.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08TLKXXXX

ANTIQUE WOODEN SPOON WITH BATTLE SCARS ★★★★★
Not just any wooden spoon—one that’s been passed down and contains the soul of generations of baking.
Mine has a crack down the middle that I refuse to replace because it adds character to my moist cinnamon applesauce cakes.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07THKXXXX

Switch It Up: Variations That Won’t Disappoint

For a tropical twist, substitute half the applesauce with mashed ripe bananas and add ¾ cup toasted coconut flakes to the batter. My friend Clarissa thinks this version is an abomination, but what does she know? She puts ketchup on scrambled eggs.

The Midnight Special: Add 3 tablespoons of dark cocoa powder to the dry ingredients and replace ½ cup of applesauce with strong brewed coffee. This variation was born during a 2am baking frenzy when I couldn’t sleep and had limited ingredients. The result was so good I actually woke up my neighbor to try it. We don’t speak anymore.

Fall Harvest Edition: For the autumn months, I like to add 1/2 cup of pumpkin puree and reduce the applesauce accordingly. The spice combination changes subtly, creating what I call a “seasonal bridge” between traditional applesauce cake and pumpkin bread. Try it with my maple cream cheese frosting recipe.

You Asked, I Answered

Q: Why does my moist cinnamon applesauce cake with a hint of nutmeg always collapse in the middle?

A: You’re opening the oven door too early, you impatient monster! According to my personal baking principle of “thermal sanctity,” the first 22 minutes of baking time are sacred and untouchable. The molecular structure of the cake is establishing itself during this period, and any temperature fluctuation can cause the delicate matrix to collapse. I once ruined an entire wedding cake tier by checking it at minute 19, and I still have nightmares about the sunken center that looked like a cake volcano.

Final Thoughts From Your Apple-Obsessed Friend

As I sit here licking cake batter off my favorite mixing spoon (I always save the spoon for myself and give the bowl to whoever’s closest), I’m reminded that a truly moist cinnamon applesauce cake with a hint of nutmeg isn’t just a dessert—it’s an experience wrapped in a memory. Did I mention my version won “Most Likely to Cause Involuntary Moaning” at the 2022 County Fair Bake-Off? Not an official category, but the judges created it specially for me.

I’m currently working on a gingerbread version that incorporates applesauce and cinnamon in completely new ways. Will it work? Who knows! That’s the beauty of baking—sometimes the biggest failures lead to the tastiest discoveries. Remember: baking rules were made by people who lacked imagination!

Until next time, may your cakes be moist and your spices be fresh!

—Chef Applebottom (that’s what my students call me behind my back, and I’ve decided to embrace it)