One of my greatest triumphs in cooking through my grandmother Nonnie’s cookbook so far was her apple cake, a welcome addition to any dessert spread, whether it’s a high holiday or a normal weeknight. “Cake” is right there in the name, but it’s more like a marvelous mess of softly yielding apple chunks just barely held together by a tender crumb base—one that only gets more lusciously fruit-saturated as it sits.

Rich as that sounds, the cake is also surprisingly versatile; even though it contains plenty of butter, sugar and eggs, the final product turns out to be neither too rich nor too sweet. You can (and should) have a slice for dessert, of course, but you can also eat a big old hunk in the morning without feeling too guilty about having cake for breakfast.

Let’s put it this way: For 27 years, I thought I was firmly on Team Pie. Then I made this cake—and I wasn’t so sure where my loyalties lay anymore.