Aunt Grace’s Cake

Frustration – Day 869

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Train Wreck – aka – Dud of an Aunt Grace’s Cake – Photo: L. Weikel

Frustration

I baked a cake today and I’m brimming with frustration. For the life of me, I don’t know why it turned into this monstrosity resembling a chocolate milk-colored lava flow slowly inundating a toppled pile of walnuts.

I know why it looks like a toppled pile of walnuts, though. Because each layer of the cake resisted removal from its pan, that’s why. One layer left a strip of itself along the edge in the pan. I retrieved it. But did it want to rehabilitate itself back into the society of the rest of the cake? No, it did not.

Another layer left a chunk of its very center in the pan. It was fully cooked. Don’t fall for that play for sympathy. You know: “Oh, I wasn’t ready to come out of the oven yet! It wasn’t time for my debut and she forced me on stage without reading me my lines!”

No. That’s baloney. It was time.

And then there was the third layer. Or I should say the first layer, for it was the one I placed at the bottom, giving it the responsibility of being the foundation upon which the integrity of the entire confection rested. Well, that trust was certainly misplaced. While it could be noted that this particular layer perhaps did not leave as much of itself in the pan initially, it more than failed to meet its pathetic attempt at mediocrity by just leaning over and succumbing to the weight of its self-loathing.

Then Came the Icing

Was it something in the air? Was it a sign from above that it’s time to dramatically cut back on the sugar intake, Lisa?

I don’t know what it was, but to add insult to injury, the icing was simply a mess. It never got firm. It’s not firm now and it’s been in the refrigerator since late this afternoon. And while the icing tastes ok…it is not the near mouth-gasm I know this recipe is capable of creating.

Something’s off about it and – just as I have no clue what the hell happened to the cake, I am equally flummoxed by the implosion of the icing.

With respect to integrity of the ingredients, there is the possibility that this effort went to hell in a hand-basket because I allowed the butter, which I’d placed on top of the stove to soften – just two simple sticks of butter still wrapped in their paper cloaks, hanging out on the oven while it warmed up – to sort of melt.

In my defense, I got sidetracked by a visitor – and forgot what I was doing, as we chatted outside in the sunshine while maintaining appropriate social distancing. Nevertheless, Karl made a valiant attempt to salvage the effort by sort of scooping them up onto a plate. They struggled to maintain their structural integrity, but only superficially succeeded. I do think the partial melting may have contributed to the creation of lava.

Other Variables

Beyond these slight snafus, other variables did come into play. I attempted to use my mother-in-law’s vintage standing mixer from the ‘50s. Mind you, I’ve never used one of these ever in my life – always having been a hand-held mixer girl up to this point.

Well, because I burned out my hand-held over Christmas and had to buy a crappy 3 speed whose fastest speed barely musters enough power to beat an egg, I thought I’d give the standing mixer a try. The indicator on the side of the contraption hinted at lightning speeds achievable. I dreamed of whipping all the ingredients into a quivering frenzy.

Dormeyer Standing Mixer – Photo: L. Weikel

Yeah, well, I guess it worked. Technically at least, I guess it did what stand-ups do? But I did not have the control I craved (and have always wielded) while using a hand-held. Call me crazy, but it felt like a variable that may have influenced the final outcome. It just didn’t feel…right.

Another factor – at least in the failed creation of the layers of walnut torte – was a potential aging or impotence factor in the baking powder I used. Frankly, I sense that blaming the baking powder is less than optimum and definitely doubtful – although my recent attempt to make Carol’s Chocolate Cake resulted in a density to the cake that also was unnerving. Where oh where was the light and airy fluffiness of my cakes? Am I losing my touch?

A Bummer

I just don’t know. But having one’s ‘face fixed’ for exquisite confections only to have them turn out not only to look like natural disasters but also taste just ‘OK’ – when they should, by all rights, send one’s mouth and senses into ecstatic overload – is, in a word, inauspicious – especially if considered to be a harbinger of the year to come. In another word:  a BUMMER.

Finally, as the accompanying photo shows, I am capable of baking this cake like a champ. Not this year, though. Nope. <<sigh>>  Maybe next time.

A Better Rendition of Aunt Grace’s Cake – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-242)

Double Icing – Day 637

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Carol’s Chocolate Cake with Double Icing – Photo: L. Weikel

Double Icing

It’s been a running request for years now. Whenever I asked Karl what he wanted for his birthday (meaning which confection would he like me to bake), he’d blurt out, “Double icing!” He didn’t care which of the two in my vast culinary repertoire I baked (Aunt Grace’s Walnut Torte or Carol’s Chocolate Cake) as long as I made ‘double icing.’

This request is a throwback to the days when my sister and brother-in-law would bake one of Aunt Grace’s Cakes for Karl’s birthday – and would whip up an extra batch of icing for him, plopping generous multiple tablespoonsful into cupcake liners for him to hoard in the freezer. Ah yes, the hedonistic pleasures of youth.

Those particular indulgences took place in what now feels like another time, another era. As our lives unfolded (and our waistlines expanded) a time came when Karl realized that icing ‘cupcakes’ were unbelievably indulgent and not exactly the healthiest thing to consume on an even fairly infrequent basis. (In other words, his requests for these icing nuggets came to a reluctant end after both of us lost a good chunk of weight 30 years ago.)

The Request Renewed

Slowly over time, though, as these things tend to wriggle their way back into our consciousness, Karl started espousing the, “if the icing on the cake is scrumptious, then twice as much would be even better” approach to life. But I held firm.

For a long time, in fact, I held firm. Part of me vaguely recalls giving in maybe once as his annual requests grew more plaintive – but I can’t be sure. If I did, it was probably a year or two after Karl (our son) passed away, figuring I could assuage some of the sadness by dosing it with butter and sugar. This is especially true since there were only four days between the two Karls’ birthdays.

Fast Forward to Today

Perhaps as a result of the pandemic and wanting to surprise him with a guilty pleasure, or perhaps as a result of the stunning fact that Karl didn’t even once yelp, “Double icing!” in my general direction as August started unfurling its katydid nights, I decided to indulge his desires this year.

Without even asking for it, Karl received Carol’s Chocolate Cake with double icing. (Rest assured that was the cake he requested this year – I’d never deign to make that decision for him.)

Speaking for myself, double icing is too much of a good thing. Gobs of butter cream icing drown out the deliciousness of the dark chocolate, coffee-infused cake. And besides that, my whole body starts to buzz.

Karl practically passed out after eating his massively generous slice tonight. I wonder if he’s now cured of asking for “double icing!” or if next year he’ll just ask for Aunt Grace’s Walnut Torte (and the obscene icing cupcakes of our misspent youth).

Yeah. Double icing is evil – Photo: L. Weikel

 

(T-474)

Aunt Grace’s Cake – Day 336

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Aunt Grace’s Cake – Photo: L. Weikel

Aunt Grace’s Cake

As I predicted almost seven months ago, I’m finally writing about the cake that was the ‘official’ birthday cake in my home when I was growing up.

First of all, let me just state for the record that I find it absolutely astounding that it’s been almost seven months (just five days shy, so close enough in my book) since I first wrote about Aunt Grace’s Cake. I first brought it up in the post I wrote about Carol’s Chocolate Cake – the cake I traditionally baked as the ‘go to’ birthday cake while my sons were growing up.

As mentioned in that post, my son prefers Carol’s Chocolate Cake because he’s a traditionalist, and that’s the one he grew up on.

But my daughter-in-law just goes for the gold. And if you recall, she’d lobbied for my son to ask for ‘the walnut cake’ when I asked him which cake he wanted me to bake him for his birthday back in in the spring.

Tiffany’s Birthday

Today is Tiffany’s birthday. Yea!

Needless to say, I had no question which cake she was hoping I’d make for her birthday. I didn’t even need to ask.

It’s interesting, though, to observe how Aunt Grace’s Cake is making a resurgence into the lead as birthday cake of choice in our household. I guess a walnut torte is more of a refined taste than a totally decadent chocolate cake. But honestly? I really don’t think it’s a case of walnuts vs. chocolate.

The biggest reason I don’t think so is because the icing of the walnut torte (aka Aunt Grace’s Cake) is made with three bars of melted chocolate, half a pound of butter, a pound of confectioner’s sugar, three eggs and three tablespoons of a secret ingredient.

Bottom line? It’s a nearly orgasmic chocolate buttercream icing. Until you’ve tasted it, you haven’t really lived.

And the walnut torte itself is, well, the perfect complement.

I may not offer a vast repertoire of birthday menu selections. But even I have to admit: the couple of options I do offer have stood the test of time. These confections also make it exceedingly difficult to write a blog post after ingesting a generous piece of either, for a sugar coma lurks dangerously close by as a result, especially this late at night.

I have to say: baking either of these cakes is a wonderfully satisfying way to express my love for my family. I hope they feel it and know it with each luscious bite.

Birthday Girl with Cake – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-775)

Aunt Grace’s Cake – Day 132

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Aunt Grace’s Cake

I’m a woman of my word. I promised my “# 2”* son that this weekend I would bake him the cake that was the traditional birthday cake in our household when I was growing up. Even though his birthday was this past Tuesday, and I made him Carol’s Chocolate Cake last weekend.

It took longer than I expected to make it today. I’m not sure why – maybe I’m just operating in a slow motion fugue state?

Fugue State!

I can vouch for the fact that I am feeling the effects of eating  it. Wow, talk about fugue states. I. Am. There.

These two cakes are very different. The walnut torte (aka Aunt Grace’s Cake) has no flour. Only a dozen eggs, a pound of powdered sugar, a pound of walnuts and a few other things. Even the icing has eggs in it. Not to mention three large chocolate bars (melted) and another pound of powdered sugar.

Goodness. Just reciting the basic ingredients pushes me into that fugue state I mentioned above.

The chocolate cake has flour, sugar, cocoa, butter… and coffee.

Needless to say, indulging in both of these within the span of five or six days is a shock to my system! It’s a stretch to keep my eyes open.

Oh – and yet again, I picked Prairie Dog today. Unbelievable.

As much as I love making favorite dishes (or baked goods) (or whatever) for the people I love, and as much as I love the shamanic work I do, working on those things is not indulging in the “Lisa time” I vowed to engage in today. Nope.

Still Owe Myself Some Serious Alone Time

I still have not written down all the cool experiences of the past couple weeks. I must do that. It is crucial that I not let even one more day go by without writing those experiences down.

Tomorrow. I feel cautiously optimistic that tomorrow will be my day. (And if I choose Prairie Dog again…I’m not going to admit it.)  Of course, that’s not true.

By the decimation of the cake shown in the photo below, I clearly should not have bestowed cake cutting and distribution responsibilities to the honored recipient of said cake. The pieces were too gigantic. I cannot believe we ate half the cake. That borders on gross. No, it crossed the line.

Time for bed.

 

Half eaten; Photo: L. Weikel

 

*I know you’re all wondering if “# 2” son means he’s my second favorite son (which, all things considered, wouldn’t be terrible) or if he’s simply the second of my three sons. Meaning the middle child. Which has its own special place in all mothers’ hearts. Sort of. If we remember.

(T-980)

Not a Power Post – Day 131

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Sleeping Beauties – Photo: L.Weikel

Not a Power Post

OK, I’ll admit it. I am super tired.

I ended up squeezing in about 2.5 hours of sleep last night. Got my beloved to the airport in jig time (only to have his flight delayed for four hours, including having to switch planes). Yikes!  His delay, however, did not provide any respite for me – and as a result, I have not stopped moving forward, either working or meeting with people, since then.

And that includes right up to this very moment, since until I started writing this post, I was trying to get a follow up to my client written while it was still fresh in my mind.

A Nagging Thought

While I was doing that, I felt this nagging sense at the back of my mind – as if I should be doing something else. And then it dawned on me: I have to get this written early tonight! I won’t be here at my usual ‘muse-time!’

Needless to say, while I would not characterize writing this post as ‘work,’ I would emphasize that my 1111 Devotion is an Act of Power, as well as a visible expression of my love for and memory of Karl. So, it’s beyond ‘work.’ It’s ‘love’ – making the writing of it all the more non-negotiable.

Sacred Space Shifts Everything

I did have an amazing session, though. What a gift it is to do shamanic work. And what’s really cool for me to have experienced first hand (yet again) is how creating Sacred Space shifts everything.

Yes, I was tired. But once Sacred Space was opened, I forgot all about myself. Indeed, the room was filled with such a sense of excitement and anticipation for the breakthrough that eventually occurred that I did not even once think about anything other than the person I was with and the confluence of events that brought them to work with me in that moment.

All of which makes me think about the series of truly astounding experiences I’ve had (and messages I’ve received) over the past 10 days or so. I want to share them with you, but I know I must digest them first within my own self.

I’m hoping I will get some time this weekend to do just that.

Agenda: Baking and Reflecting

Ah yes, I seek time to reflect upon my recent experiences and give myself the space and freedom to chart where they may be leading me next. Other than baking the walnut torte (a/k/a “Aunt Grace’s Cake”) I promised my son I’d make this weekend, I want to point the Eye of Sauron on myself.

(Hey, I know how some people, mostly my own family members, feel when I give them the look and demand they really dig into their feelings, motivations, fears, and aspirations. It’s only fair I direct that no-bullshit gaze on myself occasionally.)

So there you have it, my agenda for this first weekend of spring: Me time.

Needless to say, this will only happen if I get a long, delicious night’s sleep. That’s also in the plan.

(T-980)

Carol’s Chocolate Cake – Day 126

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Carol’s Chocolate Cake (with green icing to celebrate our Irish) – Photo: L. Weikel                                                                                       (Missing from Photo: A big glass of ice-cold milk)

Carol’s Chocolate Cake     

We had some pre-birthday cake tonight. My middle son’s birthday is this week, and even though we decided not to officially celebrate until next weekend, I baked him a chocolate cake with buttercream icing on it this weekend anyway. Just because.

The cake I baked today was the ‘official’ cake of my sons’ childhoods; my ‘go to’ cake recipe that I baked for birthdays (and only birthdays) for years and years.

Officially, in the household I grew up in, this cake was known as ‘Carol’s Chocolate Cake.’ This was not because my sister Carol came up with the recipe. In fact I doubt she even knows where the recipe originated. I’m sure I don’t know. But it was called Carol’s Chocolate Cake because she was the one who baked it.

This wildly popular darkly chocolate and seductive confection was a dessert we would have only on rare, celebratory occasions – although while I was growing up, this chocolate cake was not the official birthday cake.

NOT the Official Birthday Cake of My Youth

No, the official birthday cake while I was growing up was ‘Aunt Grace’s Cake.’

Inasmuch as I have 985 more posts to write in order to fulfill my 1111 Devotion commitment, I’m going to save a chitchat about Aunt Grace’s Cake for another post.

Although, truth be told, I really can’t talk about one without mentioning the other. You might think it odd that I did not carry on the legacy of having Aunt Grace’s Cake be ‘the’ birthday cake for my kids, but there are a couple of reasons why that happened.

How the ‘Official’ Designation Shifted

First and foremost, since my sister Carol is 13 years older than I, she grew up, went to college, and married well before I was out of the house. As a result, Carol was gone but the cake needed to be baked. And so I was tasked with becoming its baker. It was a recipe I ‘brought to the marriage,’ so to speak, and since I knew how to bake it from having taken up the reins when Carol grew up and moved to Massachusetts, and the recipe was easy, it became our official birthday cake.

The second reason was because Aunt Grace’s Cake was never one that was baked in our house. As can be gleaned from its name, it can also be deduced – and you would not be wrong in making that deduction – that it was baked at Aunt Grace’s house. Indeed, all I ‘knew’ about Aunt Grace’s Cake was that my mother would buy what seemed to be vast numbers of Hershey’s bars, walnuts, and eggs, and would drop them off at Aunt Grace’s house days before any of our birthdays.

I never saw the recipe, nor did I ever think I could master this feat of orgasmic culinary wizardry. This was mostly because my mother would just rave and rave over it – not once did she even feign an interest in baking it herself. (Smart woman, my mother.)

A Cake’s Daunting Legacy

As a result, I had it in my head for the longest time that it was something only an expert in the kitchen could bake. Or a Hungarian – as it was a recipe my Aunt Grace (who was an aunt by love and affection, not blood) had brought in her head as a child when she emigrated here from Hungary.

So I never even tried. Not until, oddly enough, about eight or nine years ago.

Instead, through pretty much the first 30 years of Karl’s and my marriage (and consequently our sons’ lives), I remained loyal to the achingly delicious, tried and true, now Aunt Carol’s Chocolate Cake. It was the official birthday cake of the Weikel household.

And I’ll tell you the secret to why this has always been exquisitely pleasing: it has a robust cup of coffee in it. Yum. So not only do you get the caffeine hit of cocoa, but also of coffee. Add sugar, butter and flour and you have a hit. But top it off with homemade buttercream icing?

Yeah, you get the picture.

An Impossible Choice

Fast forward to Son #2’s 31stbirthday: When asked which cake he wanted me to bake for his birthday (which again, he opted to celebrate next weekend, since it falls in the middle of the week), he asked for ‘the walnut cake’ – which is another name for Aunt Grace’s Cake.

I could tell from the lightning-quick looks that flashed between him and his wife that my son’s choice may have been slightly influenced by my daughter-in-law’s unabashed passion for Aunt Grace’s Cake. Not that any of us suffer for that selection, mind you. (Smart son I have.)

But what the heck.

Especially considering what I wrote about last night and the preciousness of making our ‘time’ count by virtue of the experiences with which we choose to fill it, I decided we all needed a pre-birthday fix of Aunt Carol’s Chocolate Cake.

Just for old times’ sake.

(T-985)