Okay, we’ve survived; dug ourselves out of the bone-chilling depths of this winter’s first snowstorm.
Now what?
I say, let’s have some cake.
Raised in a French family in Allanburg, while attending Thorold schools for 13 years, I was surrounded by Italian kids; making me a mangiacake.
It’s a title I don’t take lightly.
At an early age, Mom taught me how to make my Aunt Simone’s famous chocolate cake from scratch, which I can still make from memory.
(Sure, I can’t remember more than two things without a grocery list but can effortlessly recall all the precise measurements of eight cake ingredients from 40 years ago).
We made it fairly often, and my Dad and I used to love drenching our chocolate cake in bowls of milk.
I later learned that apparently, this is weird, judging by the reactions I got whenever I’d ask for milk instead of ice cream with my cake at parties.
Eventually, I stopped doing that (at least, in public).
I still think it’s less weird than those birthday parties we used to go to as kids, when our friends’ moms would bake nickels and dimes into the batter, as a special treat.
“Surprise! You’re going to the dentist! You broke your filling!”
The odd time Mom had the audacity to make a vanilla or other kind of cake, Dad would smile and say, “If it ain’t chocolate, it ain’t cake” (while gulping it down).
My brother, meanwhile, was ahead of his time in the cake department, when years ago he ordered me an especially decadent chocolate cake—fresh from the bakery that was miraculously situated right next door to his apartment—with his favourite saying: “It’ll change your life forever” scrolled in icing.
It did.
Years later, carb-loading has soared to new heights, with cakes becoming a fun way to etch every type of sentiment, using frosting.
Blue or pink “reveal cakes” appear frequently at showers, as a colourful way to announce the new baby’s gender to guests.
When we announced recently that the Thorold News was merging with Village Media on our one-year anniversary of bringing the local news back to Thorold, Danny surprised us with a cake, saying, “Happy Anniv-going out of business” on it.
I say, why not take the next obvious step, and send cakes for every occasion? This would be an ideal means of softening the blow while dumping someone, for instance.
“It’s not me, it’s you” cakes.
The possibilities are endless.
“I’m pregnant.”
"A fire hydrant jumped out of nowhere, and destroyed our passenger door while I was driving without my glasses."
(This actually happened to me).
Or simply, "Oops."
Perfect for so many occasions, I predict the sale of Oops cakes would skyrocket.
In addition, employees, bosses, and even members of the medical profession could use this sweet delivery system to take the sting out of less-than-ideal news.
“I quit.”
“You’re fired.”
"We have to yank out your spleen, stat."
“You have an STD.”
In case anyone’s interested, here is my Aunt’s super-moist, simple recipe for chocolate cake. If I remember correctly, Mom called it a “war-time” cake, invented in an era when eggs were scarce, so no chicken embryos are used in the making of it.
Note: this is no airy-fairy cake mix dessert. It’s got some real heft to it.
*Also, while it calls for 2 cups of sugar, remember—people ate insane amounts of sugar in those days (possibly to make up for their rationing of eggs?). I find 1-1/3 cups to be plenty.
Aunt Simone’s Chocolate Cake
Mix in a big bowl:
3 cups all purpose flour
2 cups white sugar *
1/3 cup cocoa
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
Add, after mixing in a smaller bowl:
2 tbsp. vinegar
¾ cup vegetable oil
2 cups water at room temp
Bake in a greased 13” x 9” pan, or Bundt pan, at 350 F for 35 minutes.
Bon appétit!
