This past Sunday morning, I got a text from a friend. Her husband had died unexpectedly of a heart attack that morning. He was 48.
I got the cake recipe out. I first got this recipe from my mother-in-law, Judy, when my oldest was newly diagnosed with a digestive disease that required us to cut out egg, dairy, and soy. (Have you ever made a cake without those ingredients? I never had and was skeptical.) Judy and I made that cake for Asher whenever we needed an “Asher-safe” dessert for a party we were going to. Asher is better now. As an 11 year old, he often makes himself a plate of eggs for breakfast. But, the comfort that cake brought me when I had no idea what this kid’s life was going to look like reminded me how far we had come and the love his grandma showed for him and for me in finding this recipe.
“She wants to have baked a cake that banishes sorrow, even if only for a little while.”
from In the Sweet Kitchen
1 1/2 c all-purpose flour
1 c sugar
1/4 c natural unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
6 Tb canola oil
1 Tb white vinegar
1 tsp vanilla
1 c cool water
Oven to 350. Whisk together first 5 ingredients. Mix in wet ingredients until most of the lumps are smoothed out, but do not overbeat. Bake in 8×8 pan for 30 minutes (9×9 pan for 23-25). Cool completely—this extremely moist cake will fall apart if removed from the pan too soon. I like to serve it topped with ganache or chocolate sauce, although it’s even good topped with only a sprinkle of powdered sugar.
7 Responses
I love the idea of praying as you cook so that your love and care can be infused in the food. And I am making that cake. Such a tender post.
Thanks for sharing this, Emily! Like Heather, I particularly love the idea of praying and baking.
This post is beautiful and resonates deeply. The idea of pouring my heart and soul into cooking and baking is nurturing to my soul and hopefully to the recipient whether my family or someone else. I am reminded of a favorite memory in the days after my mothers passing it was a hot August day in the south and I was sitting on my aunts front porch. She came out sat down next to me and handed me a pop sickle. In that moment I was a child again. Her simple act nurtured me in my profound grief and I felt so loved and so safe. It was really indescribable. Thank you Emily!
I have to say, Linda (I’m hoping this is Linda HK?), your book, Saints Well-Seasoned, is one of my favorites and a style of essay I tried to emulate in this essay.
I love a good recipe! And I believe deeply in the holiness that can be a part of cooking food and also the joy of sharing something good to eat. I hope your friend finds comfort from what you’ve prepared.
I think we all have a bit of motherless child within us, and a dish of food made by hand with love is a balm like no other for that ache.
[…] Memories from a Recipe: Chocolate Cake – Her husband had died unexpectedly of a heart attack that morning … I got the cake recipe out. I first got this recipe from my mother-in-law, Judy, when my oldest was newly diagnosed with a … […]
I am not a person who enjoys cooking. But I do enjoy doing things packed with meaning. Thanks for giving me another perspective on making food, especially in circumstances when I don’t know quite how to help.