FRUITCAKE NIRVANA

This is it. Fruitcake weather. It’s nippy outside, even in South Florida the temperatures have dipped down into the fifties at night… Christmas has arrived….and the wait is over!(Drum roll, please!) The food memory? Well, imagine a little girl with 2 pigtails and a curly headed little boy (my brother Bill) ready for the long trip huddled together (both with feet dangling from the same seat) on a Greyhound bus with my Great-Grandmama Emma, (our chaperone) to Chattanooga, Tennessee. The bus driver calls out the cities, ” Jacksonville, Macon, Atlanta, Chattanooga and all points northeast…” with that our bus backed out and headed towards I- 95, then on to I- 75. Meanwhile me and Billy with our array of coloring crayons colored in our coloring books sit quietly engaged in drawing and playing–Billy, with his tiny toy trucks, and me with my paper doll books (remember those?) anxiously waiting for the veritable feast of fried chicken, deviled eggs, and Christmas cookies in tins. But, the most anticipated thing was wrapped in layers of foil in a special cake tin—fruitcake! Ahhhhh!

With that memory….all I can say is….I’ve never forgotten the contented feeling of looking through the frosty window on the bus, perfumed with the best fried chicken and fruitcake ever made… and I can still see Grandma Emma’s smile as she gave us the smallest piece of soaked rum fruitcake…It was a satisfying smile of the greatness of that  hidden treasure like finding some forbidden jewel with its sweet cherries, nuts, and spices. The time involved in its preparation…the waiting for days, weeks, and months until the cake (marinating in liqueurs) adding to our anticipation and culminating in that tiny slice of goodness. The bottom line? This memory sealed my fate (and my brother’s) as lovers of fruitcake–forever, without regrets!

So, does my son like fruitcake? Of course.  The memory’s different but, the anticipation is the same. My mother loves fruitcake, too. It’s her favorite cake….and we’ve got hers packed and ready to go…Fruitcake’s the reason why I’m up late tonight…Nick’s had enough of reminding me whether I’ve spritzed the cake. All anticipation crescendos to an inevitable question, “Mom, do you think it’s ready, yet? Then, “can we cut it now?” Then finally, “are you sure?” My answer?… “Yes, it’s ready!”

Welcome to the holidays, y’all. It’s fruitcake time! This one is my best one yet (I say that every year)…Nick’s response? “It’s real good, Mom… He’s said that several times while eating it…My response? Grandma’s same smile of satisfaction…

*******

Cheryl’s Butter Bakes fruitcake 2018. Full of my own candied cherries, pineapples, ginger, apricots, raisins, walnuts, and pecans. Soaked with bourbon and dark rum….I just love this time of year. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Just so you Know….This really is about CAKE!

Much of what and who we are is shaped by our past. I really want to write about this luscious pineapple upside down cake I made at 1 a.m. early this morning. I wanted to write you about how Grandma Ruth would bake one in an old 12 inch cast iron skillet seasoned from years of fried chicken, and pork chops…. How I’d come through the back door (after school) surrounded by the yellow walls of her tiny kitchen. Then being enveloped by the glorious smells of gooey dark brown sugar, butter and golden canned Dole pineapples (yes, I’m name dropping here–they are the best short of fresh pineapples!). I wanted to write admitting my love for the overly sweet maraschino cherries (the jumbo ones, please)…..about how most people hate their cloying sweet taste and, honestly, how I could mindlessly snack on the entire little jar.

I wanted to tell you these things–I really did and well, I could still tell you all these things (and more) but, I can’t get around the fact that when I told Grandma about how I got my love of the pineapple upside down cake from her baking them. She couldn’t recall any of it. Not one memory. Nothing. All she could do was live in that moment in time. Right then. Me and her on the phone while Mom’s showing her the photo (I’ve posted below). She was telling me her opinion of me as a baker but, I wanted her to recognize who gave me that inspiration. Dementia’s seemed to have had the last laugh. She couldn’t recall ever making a pineapple upside down cake, or the recipe she used on the back of the Swan cake flour box….or her standing at the stove top stirring the molasses brown sugar and butter or the pineapple rings (as I waited for her to leave me at least one from the bottom of the can) or her skillfully, flipping the heavy cast iron pan onto the dinner plate that donned the finished cake. Dementia has done that.

It was the thief in the night that stole it all….no more sharing cooking tidbits like don’t let the topping stay on the bottom of the pan for a long time without immediately flipping the plate or it will stick to the pan. Dementia– with it’s cruel intentions against memory and time and the back and forth of conversation…has taken it. It has taken her concern for the future. It has taken what little is left of the transitory present, leaping its way into the past as soon as the moment is gone. It’s quite cyclical but, instructional. It’s how we should all live our lives–in the moment– in the present and then, whether good or bad just let it go.

But, I do recall, although I know she can’t remember…I tell her–not for her benefit, but for my benefit. I need to recall it all as dementia continues to have its way with her. Is it my way of saying thank you, Grandma, for all you’ve done for me? Is it my way of giving her her flowers while she’s living? Or, is it my way of connecting with her with whatever is left of her memories? Yet, she still knows us. She can still give some damn good advice–and she still fries the best chicken in the whole world…Yes, maybe, it’s all of these reasons. And maybe, since she’s unable to make connections we become the keeper of her memories. It is the least we can do for a woman who has done so much for all of us.

Grandma Ruth’s cake came from the basic 1-2-3-4 cake recipe (yes, the one on the back of the Swan cake flour box and all I can add to this memory is that I’m just thankful she’s still with us. My family approaches tomorrow (the first year without my brother on Father’s Day) as a grim reminder of who’s no longer on this earth and my grandmother is that necessary link. We need her nurturing kindness which dementia didn’t take and while her memories are void of knowing any details of her first husband of 36 years, or that her son is dead (for almost 20 years) or the inevitable question of where she put her pocket book.

One moment please, about THAT pocketbook. Once an important item…now housing random items that lay in its lining like trash strewn on the side of the road such as chewing gum balled up paper towels with an old biscuit and a checkbook she’s found from a now, defunct account. The pocketbook takes its place among the lost but never found of forgotten memories. Listening to my grandmother on the phone my mind is flooded with memories of a time in my childhood when she went through the same thing with her mother. It’s all so deja vu–just a different person–and a different time (but you thought this would be a blog about cake!)

COPYRIGHT © 2018 blog author 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 @ cherylsorrells@yahoo.com

A Promise Kept

Fruitcake is a special cake in my family. I don’t know why other people don’t like it except, well, maybe, they’ve had some awful tasting fruitcake in their day. I grew up with a great grandmother who made delicious fruitcakes! Despite it being soaked in wine and rum, as children we couldn’t wait for her to unwrap the foil paper and slice us a piece of the fruitcake filled with cherries and nuts!

Now, as a teacher, it’s an endeavor to tackle making a fruitcake because it’s so labor intensive. It exhausts me so much that I take a break every few years before making it again. There’s a lot of preparation such as buying all the nuts, fruits, then prepping them, etc. I mean you really have to want fruitcake to make it. And it’s expensive to make but, this year I bought a dehydrator and processed my own fruit then  I glazed it! I was able to catch a sale on canned pineapples (name-brand only, please) so, that made it cheaper. And I don’t like other strange fruits in my fruitcake, like blueberries. Who came up with the idea of blueberries in a fruitcake? I’m sorry, I like blueberries but, no blueberries in my fruitcake– just pineapples, candied ginger, Maraschino cherries, walnuts and pecans in mine. That’s it.

So, it’s been a few years since I made one but, at my brother’s insistence (who lived in Houston, Texas) he’d put a “bug in my ear” earlier this year to make him a fruitcake. However, he died in late October of a brain aneurysm. His unexpected death has reeled this family. I really am trying to find my Christmas spirit (now more than ever). I had been gathering up walnuts, and pecans worse than some old squirrel getting ready for winter but, I wouldn’t announce to anyone that I was going to actually make fruitcake (just in case I had a change of heart). Folks in this family salivate at the thought of fruitcake. They make hints like, “I sure do love a good fruitcake” or “my favorite cake is a fruitcake.” When I’d hear such comments I’d just acknowledge them with my silence. As a baker I’m going over the recipe in my head and each time I’m thinking whether I have enough rum or butter just in case but, all the time I was getting myself ready to make fruitcake. I mean can I really do this, now, after everything?

I’ll admit I’ve spent a lot of time rationalizing. For example, we administered midterms this past Friday (2 days before Christmas) and I really should have baked this cake back in October but, during that time the family was dealing with Bill’s death with two memorial services in 2 different states. The last thing on my mind was fruitcake! The last cake I’d baked for my brother was a fruitcake. I’d shipped it to him and it was lost in the mail. My fantastic fruitcake –lost in the mail. Well, after 4 months I traced it. It was sitting on a shelf in some local mail room in some small town on the outskirts of Houston, Texas! They returned it to me and it was stale because you have to soak or spritz it with wine, rum or brandy. And then, fruitcake needs the time to mature and settle after it’s baked. Macerating the fruits adds depth of flavor. Baking this cake now at Christmas wouldn’t allow for any flavor intensity to develop. I’d wavered the points until finally, the truth is I needed to make this cake now, more than ever. Not for its potential but, I needed to focus on something other than the loss of someone so close.

We were only 1 day shy of being a year apart in age (his birthday is the day before mine) and then 1 day out of the year we are the same age! It was a running joke between us. I promised him a fruitcake this year. Whether he’s physically present or not–this fruitcake is for Bill. Well, I got through it without any tears until I put the last of those glazed green cherries on the first cake (I actually made 3 cakes). When I finished decorating it I got it ready for it’s “beauty picture.” The photos were lovely. Even though it was 11 p.m. when I finished that first cake. I put a lovely red bow on the top of it just as if I were going to ship it to him. In my mind it was the cake I would have sent him. This was his fruitcake that he’d asked for way back in late spring of 2017 before I was even thinking about fruitcake–he was thinking about it.

As I snapped the photos of the cake and saw its glistening colors–I knew I’d made the right choice to make it regardless of circumstances–even Bill’s death. He would want me to do it and he would say something like, ” go on, Sis–make that cake, now.” His “now” wouldn’t have been a demand but, an urging to go ahead regardless. Make it. And so, I did–on Christmas Eve concentrating only on that task yet, holding back emotions until it was done. When I finished making all three cakes–it was as if I’d finished some overwhelming project. It was after all, just a cake, I know. But, to me, it was a promise kept. One of the last between this brother and sister. So, why bother making a fruitcake? Because, when you are grieving over the loss of your best friend–your brother, making a fruitcake will save you from thinking about your first Christmas without him.

My brother, Bill and me on summer vacation enjoying a slice of watermelon in Daytona Beach at Grandma and Granddaddy’s house.

COPYRIGHT © 2017 blog author 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

A Watchful Eye….

Luscious banana nut bread with walnuts and raisins, with a slather of cream cheese one the side. (My artisan pineapple wine is also pictured).

She had the tiniest dark eyes I’d ever seen (a trait from her mother who was 100% Cherokee)–and the sweetest smile. My great grandma  Emma. She always said I’d carry on her legacy as a baker so, I consider it no coincidence that I love baking. When I was a child we’d go to Waverly, Florida, to visit my her where she lived in a cute bungalow house with an orange tree in the yard. She’d been a domestic cook for white people in segregated Central Florida during her younger years. Entering her house there was always a pound cake, fruit cake, or her favorite, spice cake in the oven or on a cake stand. After her stroke she came to live with us and that’s where my intense training as a baker came into fruition. She was a master baker. She’d sit in the dining room watching me–and stopping me along the way to always taste, re-taste, and test my batters before fully committing them to the oven. I was always under her watchful eye. “Wait,” she’d say…”now, taste it…is there enough salt?” She could touch the dough and see that it didn’t have enough water or too much “this or that.” I had to learn patience…always too eager to put something in the oven.

********

As I was baking this banana nut bread…I could hear her voice….instructing…and I taste the batter just as I did when I was 14 years old (the baker in training)….I know that in her younger years–she was a tough person when it came to house cleaning–she was a strict task master. I’m glad I knew her when fortunately or unfortunately, illness had softened her. She also was a great story teller (like her Native American mother–her namesake–Emma). She could interpret dreams (a trait she learned from her mother). I would listen to her tell me things like what it meant if a bird flew into your house through a window or what it meant if you dreamed of water. I was also mesmerized by some tale she would spin. I think of her often especially when I’m baking having learned so much from her. I know she’s watching and smiling down on me somewhere in the universe….

COPYRIGHT © 2017 blog author 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

Louisiana Crunch Time!

The Louisiana Crunch Cake–so moist, buttery with a vanilla and almond glaze with just a hint of coconut in that crunch.

Do you remember going to the grocery store, looking on the cake shelf for that famous blue and white cake box for The Louisiana Crunch cake? I do. As a young woman my aunt Emma Lee once sent me to the store to find one for her. At that time I’d never heard of it by name. Until I located it in the store and then I said to myself, “oh, so that’s the name of that cake.” As a commercially made cake it’s good but, no comparison to mine which is homemade with real butter, cream, and a smidgen of coconut in the crunch. Then it’s covered in a vanilla and almond glaze. This is my version of The Louisiana Crunch Cake.You will fall in love with it.

Order yours today which is made to order. Go on this blog’s contact page and send your contact information. This cake can be made to order with a lemon flavor.

COPYRIGHT © 2017 blog author Cheryl D. Sorrells–All rights reserved. No parts of this blog may be reproduced, modified 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

 

Apple Jelly Cake-an Old Time Favorite Anytime

 

When I was a kid my Grandma Ruth used to wipe away my tears by baking something good to eat like an apple jelly cake. Honestly, she’ll tell you, “now, you know your grandma ain’t no real baker, honey.” So, she’d go the Duncan Hines butter cake route and “slap” the apple jelly in-between each layer and atop the cake while it was a bit warm. But, the cake was sensual. Its aroma knocked your socks off! Of all the cakes I’ve had in my life (quite a few) the apple jelly cake will literally “haunt” you. Despite grandma’s modesty, it was wonderful to me regardless of the short-takes she took. I always loved its simplicity and would quickly wash down a slice with a cup of milk. When I thought about this cake–and I’ve thought about it often–(yes, I do put a lot of thought into what I’m going to bake and post) because this is after all, a post about our connection to food and its memories it evokes, I think about how connected we are to food and the events of our life. Such as the death of a loved one. There were the many delicious pound cakes made by our most treasured bakers when my Granddaddy J.D. passed. The best cake were quickly whisked off and hidden in the back bedroom (away from company) while the less desired ones were put out for the general public. We knew sister so-and-so had made the “good cake” and well, chunk the rest for the “lookie-loos” who were hanging around to take any news back to the rest of the town of who sent what, who fainted, or got drunk before the funeral.

The apple jelly cake is a casual cake. It’s one you’d take to a picnic or for a snack rather than to some more formal event. It can be a Sunday after dinner favorite. Its buttery layers are soft and billowy rather than firm like a pound cake. I like it better the day after it’s made when the butter, and apple jelly have had a chance to mellow into the cake.  I ain’t lying when I tell you this is a good cake. Let me say that again, it’s a goooood cake! For this photo I decided to dress it up a bit by adding a lemon glaze and some coconut curls–that’s totally optional.

This southern favorite going back to the Civil War in America. By the way, you could use raspberry jam or any other favorite jam. Order yours today when you’re feeling “blue” or  happy because it’s “Throwback Thursday, y’all!”

COPYRIGHT © 2016 blog author 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

 

My Dream Cake

This is my dream Valentine’s Day cake…the one that DIDN’T get away…the one I couldn’t talk myself out of making…this is it! This is the one that I’d have for myself (if only I could) each time I make it for you. So, you know, it has everything scrumptious in it. And of course, it’s made with love. It’s the richest, chocolate truffle. Say what? You’ve never had a rich, luscious truffle? OMG! You haven’t lived without having had a truffle. The top and sides of this cake are layered with the same richest couverture that’s in a truffle. Not just any chocolate but, the deepest most intense chocolate with liqueur added. This cake is soooooooooooo moist and chocolatey because it has the best valrhona chocolate in it.

I’m in love with this cake. It’s my dream cake. The one you’ve dreamed of having in one of those ritzy New York hotels…or the one that’s in a quaint French bakery down a cobblestone street named “Saint La Rue” or something similar. It’s a feel better cake that you’ve delivered to yourself. And why not? You deserve it. Order yours today–You won’t regret it.

COPYRIGHT © 2016 blog author 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

 

If Only….

Christmas 2015 is here. Time for family, and friends–the old and the new. It’s always a melancholy time for me though. Maybe, it’s because I don’t live in a cold climate. Maybe, I miss my childhood (which was the best when it comes to Christmas). I think living in Chattanooga made for a magical time during this time of year. The icicles that hung down from the windows.. Slugging and sloshing in the snow. Late night drives with Daddy navigating the black Dodge then later, the red Buick through neighborhoods who competed with each other for “the most decorated house and neighborhood. “The annual church Christmas nativity play. And then there was our tree. Our tinsel tree with the color wheel that we’d spend hours watching it turn blue, green, yellow, red, and purple. If I close my eyes I return to that kid lying in the dark on the living room’s oak floors content at watching the color wheel’s small array of colors. The frosted picture window envelopes the scene’s picturesqueness. It was as if time stood still. If only….

So, what does this have to do with cake? Well, there was always a cake. Mostly, it was a pound cake. The smell of Mama’s pound cake ruminated from the kitchen. And then, there was preparing the fruit for ambrosia. I proudly peeled and primed the oranges. My favorite was the addition of pecans, coconut and red cherries. Marshmallows? Sure–though not my favorite with their mushy sterile smell and taste from the Kraft plastic bag. I think if they’d been homemade I would have loved marshmallows but, I’m a child of the 60’s and 70′— Kraft was “king.” The finished ambrosia was a feat-a-complete sorta marvel that reigned supreme in Mama’s beautiful punch bowl made of gorgeous cut glass. Where is that punch bowl today??? Ah, that’s another story for another time.

Recently, I’ve joined the slew of bakers who believe that the cream cheese pound cake is a wonderfully, rich, tangy, melt in your mouth cake that outweighs the sour cream pound cake. Damn it’s a fantastic cake–well, they both are but the cream cheese makes you smack your lips asking, “now, what is that? Oh, that’s good!” The cream cheese adds a  tang that lingers for a while after each bite.

This cake is fabulous and I hope you’ll make one or order one from me. But, more than that….I wish you and yours a Merry Christmas….I hope these days bring you as much love and peace as they do me….We carry our memories…for they are us…..They fall down like soft rain….

COPYRIGHT © 2015 blog author 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

The Caramel Cake

buttery, and amazing….makes you say, “….mmmmmm-mm–mmmmmm!

So, if you’ve never lived in The South or spent time there like I have…you don’t know what you’ve been missing by not having tasted Caramel Cake….It is a layered cake and it must be on the dry side although tender…and the caramel has been cooked long and slow….when I say long and slow I mean it…for that reason…the cost of a Caramel cake is a bit costly…it’s so labor intensive. How much time  you may wonder? Well, at least an hour of stirring, and stirring and stirring over the stove. It isn’t a buttercream–it’s an icing. Icings have just about disappeared from the cooking scene as a result. But, when I was a child….I’d watch my grandma Jessie cook dozens of caramel cakes for friends and church members. Caramel is tricky…you can’t rush it…but, you can burn yourself–so, be careful…It’s richness will make you take only a small slice–with lots of milk on the side, please! The house will ruminate with the smells of caramelized sugar, butter and well….why bother contemplating? Just order yours this Christmas from Cheryl’s Butter Bakes….

COPYRIGHT © 2015 blog author 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

 

Coconut Celebration Cake

Flaky, moist, coconut cake with Italian meringue icing.

There’s nothing more beautiful and delicious than a coconut cake made with Italian meringue to make your special occasion more memorable. Luckily, I’ve never strayed too far from family’s southern traditions because making a coconut cake is an act of love but, it’s so worthwhile. It is also great with a lemon curd as a filling and it has a sugar glaze on each luscious layer. Italian meringue is similar to the Seven Minute icing on the old Southern favorite, The Lady Baltimore Cake made with brandy soaked raisins, candied cherries, figs, pecans or walnuts folded into streams of hot molten, boiled sugar poured into foamy egg whites beaten until it becomes billowy, and shiny reminiscent of marshmallow cream. The Lady Baltimore Cake was the cake Great Grandmama Emma would make whenever she visited. I can see her smiling talking about how much she loved the boiled sugar icing called The Seven Minute frosting. She warned me that if it was refrigerated it would turn brittle and hard like candy. I frowned and said, “oh, well why would you want to use it then?” Her response was simple, “I don’t mind…it’s like candy.” Her eyes twinkled as she spoke about it…I knew then that the boiled icing was special–you can hardly resist poking your finger in this shiny stuff that reminds you of gooey marshmallow cream. “Yummy!”

I love this cake because this is the cake of my childhood. My Grandmama Ruth would often purchase a similar type frozen cake (you may know the name of Pepperidge Farm coconut cake) which we’d devour every drop licking the icing from the top of the box. When I was having sugar cravings as a teenage girl it was this snack cake that satiated me. Every spring it was the coconut cake that Mama would make for us in the shape of a bunny with coconut flakes colored with blue or yellow food coloring for our Easter table. Those were special times as a child. A cake like this was always accompanied by ice cream. In fact, when I became a mother I tried to carry on the tradition of the coconut cake as a sign of spring and renewal because it was so significant to mark the beginning of spring. Today, my son still buys these cakes in a last moment craving. I’ll admit that when I was younger (before I’d perfected my skills to cook this level of cake) I occasionally bought the old standby but, it was never enough (never rising above the level of “snack cake”). But, during holidays nothing else will do but, the whole cake. This celebration cake easily becomes a beautiful centerpiece whether it’s Easter, Christmas or just your next Sunday dinner.

COPYRIGHT © 2015 blog author 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