One Year Later…and The Seven Up Pound Cake

The Seven Up Pound Cake–It’s a mild taste of lemon and the sweet, tangy flavor of Seven Up soda all wrapped up in buttery deliciousness!

 

One Year Later

This blog is dedicated to the memory of my father, who most folks in Chattanooga, affectionately called, “Coach.” October 8th is the one year anniversary of his passing. He was a man who loved all sports….and… pound cake—nothing fancy, just cake and a glass of cold milk on the side. I dare to say, my father was a natural connoisseur of pound cake! Not from ever baking one, but, definitely, from tasting them throughout the years. He never cared much for heavy icings, frostings, or fillings…just “plain cake”…When asked, what’s for dessert?…he’d say, “cake”. What kind of cake? And quickly he’d proclaim…”just plain pound cake!”

Christmas and Pound Cake

My mother always had to have pound cake and a large bowl of ambrosia in the refrigerator at Christmas—Dad’s special request each year. I can remember her toiling to make sure the pound cake was the perfect recipe. I’m not sure about her recipe’s origin whether it was from a fellow “Sister” in the church or from Grandma Emma. My mother is a collector of cookbooks so, perhaps, that was the origin of her cakes at Christmas….but, it was indeed, always a good old fashioned pound cake. I actually believe the ambrosia was a balance of good and bad—pound cake (the guilty pleasure)…. ambrosia?…well, an effort in self–restraint from being tempted by too much pound cake! In the end, the ambrosia was dished out with a hunk of cake adorning it on the side! It is the perfect accompaniment to almost anything from jello to ice cream.

It was my job to peel all the oranges for the ambrosia (a job I hated but loved the end result when I saw how Mama mixed all the fruits together). Dad always wanted his slice of cake straight out of the oven. Just at the moment when the cake’s aroma was wafting throughout the house (as it is right now) he’d summon me to the kitchen with him, “come on “Big Girl” (his affectionate term for me being the eldest of his children) that old cake is smelling up something in here….lets go get us some ‘hot cake’!” On Christmas Eve he and I would prepare the traditional token gift to Santa—a slice of cake and milk on the kitchen table. To be honest, initially, I was a skeptic…until the next morning when there was nothing left on the plate but the crumbs…I mentally marked that–exhibit number one. Was there an exhibit number two? Of course, the shoe prints left by Santa from the slushy snow and rain because Chattanooga’s good for at least a chill in the air, and an inch or two of snow to mark the occasion! Amazed and convinced….I never suspected it was Daddy the entire time who was the culprit of the cake caper in the guise of Santa!

The Seven Up Pound Cake

The Seven Up Pound Cake

 In the South and in the African American community, one of the most sought after pound cakes at most all events, such as funerals, weddings, family reunions, birthdays, and Sunday after church dinners is The Seven Up Pound Cake. I don’t know why but these events wouldn’t amount to a picayune, without the presence of this particular pound cake. Whispers about whether Miss so-and-so or Sister such-and-such baked it can be heard. Then, someone says something like, “Chile she said it was just a little something she just threw together!”And then another, “shoot, give me some of that cake and not these others sitting here. I want the one they’re stashing away back in the back—that’s the good stuff!” as all eyes follow the foiled dessert. Then it would be quickly hoisted away to an unknown location hidden for later enjoyment by the hosts of the event who felt they were the ones who’d best appreciate and admire its subtle flavors, as well as, the cook who prepared it.

The Seven Up Pound Cake is actually made with Seven Up soda; therefore, omitting the necessity of any leavening agents. The cake has a fine crumb texture rich with butter, vanilla and it’s simple to make. The finishing touch is a thin sugar glaze which also consists of Seven Up which adds to the cake’s moistness. In addition, I tweaked my recipe with some added juice from a freshly squeezed lemon which enhances the lemony flavor of the soda in the glaze.

A Celebration of Memory

At the end of the day, memory keeps you….…keeps you hopeful….keeps you secure….and most importantly, keeps you connected to those who’ve passed on…A year is a long time… Memory and time have a causal connection– each dependent on the other but it takes time for memory to come forward. Time for deep breaths of air…time for butterflies and bees captured in a moment of wonder…. time to hear the faint voice of one, now, on the other side of the river…gone but not so far away…A voice which is now, a stone’s toss into the air between heaven and earth landing upon the river’s bank…saying, “hey, Big Girl” warmly pressed upon the heart—forever, a father’s love.

..As I sit here tonight baking and testing recipes the smell of that Seven Up Pound Cake lets me know that it’s on its way to being done….gonna grab a tall glass of cold milk, and sit back in my chair and wait on time and memory to come have a seat. It’s humid outside in South Florida, and the dim lamp light casts a low shimmer upon the side table where my favorite photo of Daddy is anchored near a cascading pothos plant whose leaves fall gently upon the living room floor. A time of reflecting on the most remarkable man whom I had the pleasure of calling my father….and when the cake’s out of the oven– while it’s still warm…I’ll take a slice….because  in the distance I hear a soft voice anxiously nudging me, “come on Big Girl, it’s time for ‘hot cake!”

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*COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Cheryl D. Sorrells–All rights reserved. No parts of this blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, Cheryl D. Sorrells. Inquiries should be addressed to Cheryl D. Sorrells @ cheryl.bakes@yahoo.com.