Grammy’s Cake – And How She Played a Trick On Me

This weekend we had the most wonderful time in Macon with my precious Daddy, my brother and his sweet family.

Friday evening I shot my sister in law a text asking if she was making a Grammy cake, to which she replied that she wasn’t.  I had every intention of making one Friday night, except that my kids were insanely wild and wouldn’t go to sleep, so I had to go to bed with them…and the cake didn’t get made.

So Saturday evening, after a day of great fun, Easter egg hunts, dyeing eggs and supper with family and friends, it was time to make Grammy’s cake.

Now let me first start off by saying that I had cooked a bit on Saturday, getting ready for Easter lunch, and had wrestled with my emotions and silently whispering to my mom that I wish so badly that she were here.  Here to see her precious grandbabies running around in the backyard, laughing and playing.  Her son and son-in-law racing those crazy babies, and having their own great fun throwing balls at each other and pegging PopPop many times too!  So much, that in my heart and mind, she is missing out on, and that I so desperately wanted her to be a part of.  But I have to trust that she is among us.  And remind myself that where she is, is the most glorious of places.

Back to the cake.  My sister-in-law, Joey sat at the kitchen table as I was pulling things together and re-reading the recipe for this delicious cake my mom made a staple in her kitchen.  We were chatting about the recipe, the butter and sugar were beating nicely in the mixer….and I reread the flour information.

My mom was one of those ladies that had her sugar, tea and flour on the kitchen counter.  Things she used every day because she cooked every day for as long as I can remember.  Only my mom didn’t just have one canister of flour, she had two.  One for All Purpose, and one for Self-Rising.  Well, if you are a cake-baker, you know that All Purpose flour is the “cake flour” one might use in a recipe.  {I personally use Swan’s Down Cake Flour}

So my mom, lovely lady she was, knew the difference between her flours.  I felt somewhat perplexed as to which one I was supposed to use and as Joey and I chatted I looked inside one container and saw

Okay, so this one must be the Self-Rising Flour…NOT the one I want to use.

I dumped heaping scoops of the other flour into my measuring cup until I had 3 cups, and slowly added it to my batter.

I poured it into a perfectly greased bundt pan and placed it in my Dad’s {NEW} oven.

Somewhere close to 9 p.m. I said to my Dad that at 9:20 it would be an hour….I was going to go take a shower.

About mid-way into my shower there was a knock on the door {question: when you get a knock on the shower door, do you ever get nervous? I do.  My quiet time has been interrupted by a seemingly urgent situation.  And my mind starts racing…What has happened?!}

Andrew opens the door and asks how long the cake has been in, stating that “…it smells like something is burning, so we’re going to check it…”

I shaved my legs as fast as I could.  Then had a slight panic and envisioned the house burning down, and how there is no window in the bathroom and how was I going to escape!!!  Seriously.  HOW IS THERE NO WINDOW IN THIS BATHROOM!  My family is standing in the back yard screaming and praying that I can somehow make it out of this brick prison while the house is engulfed in flames.

I turned off the water and opened the shower room door, there was no smoke.  There was a faint smell of something burning, but no billowing clouds of death.  I am the most ridiculous person I know.

I put on my pajamas and walked down the hall wondering why there was such a stink of burn in the air.  I opened the den door and asked if the cake was ok.  Apparently that was a really good joke, because everyone laughed.

The cake was overflowing…like one of those volcano projects you did in elementary school.

What the heck.

Flour talk ensued in the kitchen and I told my dad which one I used and he laughed.  “THAT is the Self-Rising flour” he said of the one I pointed to when he asked which one I used.

“Well, THIS one has this paper in it that SAYS Self-RISING!!!!”

“Hey.  Your mom was left-handed and did funny things.”

WHAT.  WHAT?! WHAT.  WHY.

“So, like, she tricked her self, and everyone else including me?! What is this?”  As we laughed about the quirky things my mom did all throughout her life.

Why would she do this.  Why would there be a piece of paper in the ALL PURPOSE flour that said Self-Rising?

Dad pulled it out and said, “Well, this tells her how to make self-rising flour out of all-purpose flour.”

“Because she did that a lot….” I said flatly.  Both canisters were almost always filled to the brim.

As we all laughed about this mis-hap, we enjoyed the fact that she must be with us.  And hopefully she’s laughing at me, at us, as we stood there in the kitchen with the box fan and hood vent on high, pondering whether or not to take the volcano eruption out of the oven and just start fresh tomorrow, or let it bake and eat the dilapidated thing.

We called it.  As Andrew made the decision and “shattered my every dream” he grabbed the pot-holders, Joey opened the back door, and out he went with the fallen, pan-filled goodness.

Dad then made two trips out with the racks that had charred cake batter on them and in the bottom of the oven lay a heap of black batter sadness.

Sorry about your new oven, Dad…and even more sorry about the cake…

But the cake I made this morning was just as wonderful as I remember.  Thanks for being with us, mom – you little trixter…you sure are missed.

And to be sure she never gets us again by her “left-brain” silliness, Dad and I labeled the one that was All-Purpose flour…{you have to watch the “left-brain” video to really get it about left-handed people!”

I hope you and your family had a most wonderful Resurrection Sunday!