December 21: My Gluten-Free Pound Cake

It continues to be a week of baking here!  We visited Columbia friends and relations over the weekend, so I just got around to baking my Saturday Cake on Monday.  I chose my GF pound cake loaves to give one as a gift and to have a treat for myself.  I deserve a treat or two this time of year because Christmas means cookies, hundreds of cookies, boxes of cookies...

Our family gives boxes of homemade cookies to our neighbors, teachers, friends and coworkers every year.  This tradition evolved out of longstanding practices and fond remembrances of our childhood.  For me, Christmas has always meant time in the kitchen.  Mom and I always made a cake for Christmas Dinner.  On Christmas Eve, my parents and I would have a picnic on the floor under the Christmas tree and we were allowed to open one present at the picnic before heading to midnight mass.  The picnic was usually sandwiches or cold dishes like fruit, cheese and pâté.  Starting in middle school, I was the chef for Christmas Eve supper.  At first, I just selected and prepared the picnic fare.  But then I decided to go "gourmet" and pick a dish that I had never tried before.  I would make a list of ingredients and a game plan for the timing of the dinner, Mom would help me shop and then I did the rest.

Cookies for Teachers, 1981

Before Christmas Eve though, Mom and I baked gingerbread cookies.  We made dozens of gingerbread cookies to give as gifts and we kept some to serve at our picnic.  When I was a freshman in high school, I made ginger-caricatures of my teachers.  Each character cookie was about nine inches tall and was presented in a box on the last day before holiday break.

While in the Secret Service, I made gingerbread and other cookies to share on Christmas day for all of us working at the command post or duty desk.  After my shift on Christmas, I hosted an open house for friends, colleagues and neighbors who couldn't travel.  The open house tradition of sparkling wine, egg nog and finger foods on Christmas afternoon continued until I retired from the USSS.

When we were dating in 2005, I made gingerbread cookies for Keith and the kids.  He loved the cookies and said that the flavor reminded him of some cookies called "fruit bars" from the Eclair Bakery in the Five Points neighborhood of Columbia.  Keith used to make a special trip to that bakery for a box of fruit bars to bring home to Georgia every time he visited Columbia.  He shared the fruit bars with friends and coworkers and eventually he started buying a couple of extra boxes in order to keep some for himself.  The Eclair closed during the 1990s and ever since then, he has been wishing for more of his favorite cookies.

He described the fruit bars to me in comparison to our gingerbread; the spice is the same, but the bars tasted fruitier, and the bars weren't crisp like the gingerbread, they were cookie-like on the outside, but chewy in the center.  There was a color difference between the golden-brown outside (top and bottom) of the bar and the soft, dark inside layer.

I fell in love with Keith and his nostalgia for fruit bars.  So, I was determined to figure out how to make the fruit bars he remembered.  I started with Mom's gingerbread recipe and then added, subtracted, took notes, asked for critiques and practiced through seven iterations until I got it right.

Now, South Carolina Fruit Bars are the foundation of our holiday cookie assortment.  We usually make three or four different types of cookies or small cakes for the boxes.  Fruit bars start the list and get the most compliments from recipients.  We even have a few people every year who beg for the recipe, but Keith says he will never allow me to share it!

We made 55 boxes of cookies this year plus a few dozen extra of each type for ourselves.  Each box is loaded with cookies, tied with a bow and delivered by the family dressed in hats like Santa's elves during Christmas week.  For a friend with a gluten-intolerant spouse, I made the gluten-free pound cake and packed it in a box marked "gluten-free."  Then I put the usual assortment of cookies in a box for her and tagged it, "full-of-gluten."

Yes, there are 40 pounds of flour and 28 pounds of butter in that cart!

This year the boxes contained Shortbread Hearts from The Silver Palate Cookbook (1982),  Christmas Cookies (rich butter cookies with cherries on top from Southern Living), and Bourbon Pecan Balls from The White House Chef Cookbook (1968) by René Verdon.

Verdon was the French chef chosen for the White House by Jacqueline Kennedy, a decision which garnered her much criticism at the time.  Cousin Pat gave me the cookbook as a gift when I was hired by the USSS and the Bourbon Pecan Balls were always a favorite at my open houses.  Some years we make gingerbread boys and girls and Apple Spice Bread.  When Keith worked for Georgia Shakespeare, we made Gingerbards (a silhouette likeness of William, himself, crafted out of gingerbread and royal icing).

But, the most important occupants in every box are the fruit bars that won Keith's heart.

The last cake of the year:  Japanese Fruit Cake

December 5 (well, 7th): The Chocoholic

I have a completely legitimate excuse for postponing my Saturday cake to Monday.

Wednesday, the 9th, was my son, Colin's fourteenth birthday and he chose this cake as his official birthday cake.

The Chocoholic as been on my list of cakes since early in the year.  The recipe is from Let Them Eat Cake: Classic, Decadent Desserts with Vegan, Gluten-Free and Healthy Variations by Gesine Bullock-Prado.  The cookbook was a Christmas present from my mom last year, and it is full of appealing recipes and beautiful photos of the desserts featured.  The best attribute of the book is that it provides a gluten-free version for each recipe; not just ingredient substitutions, but advice and tips to make a GF version turn out the same as the traditional.  I made Colin's Chocoholic using the basic recipe to try it out.  So that if it had turned out to be a disappointment, I could pinpoint the recipe as the problem, not the adjustments to make it GF.


 It was not, even remotely, a disappointment...

Although, the name of the cake has caused some chagrin in our family.  Keith and I have our own (some would say extensive) sets of grammatical pet peeves.  Please don't get me started on less-versus-fewer and why I won't shop at a grocery that has a "10 Items or Less" check-out line.  One of the burrs in Keith's language saddle is the attachment of "-aholic" to any word in a desire to note addiction or obsession.  "There is no such thing as shopahol or chocohol!" he rails. He feels the same way about "-gate" to denote a political scandal.  I love him so much!

Keith had a hard time finding fault with anything else on this cake.  And Colin has practically eaten the whole thing and it is only one day after his birthday.

The cake had three layers of delicious, dark chocolate cake, two layers of perfect chocolate mousse filling and it is covered all over with whipped chocolate ganache.  I am thrilled about how luxurious this cake is, how straightforward the directions in the recipe were and the fabulous potential for all of the gluten-free recipes in the book.

Colin has begged me to make The Chocoholic every week as my Saturday Cake in 2016.  I will take this under advisement, only if I can make the GF version.  The mousse and ganache tasted great, so I can't wait to try the whole thing.

This week, I am in serious-consideration-mode about what to write for Cake on Saturday in the new year; while a GF chocolate cake every week seems like a good idea now, I am afraid that I will become both bored and chubby in the process.


 Next Saturday (actually Sunday):  Sunday Night Cake

November 28: Granna's Nut Cake

My grandmother's Nut Cake recipe is one of the treasures I found as I sorted through her cookbooks and clippings.  I found slips of paper with notes, sometimes written by a stranger's hand, about family tree birth dates, maiden names and death dates.  Granna made lists of flowers she needed to use to make an arrangement for horticulture club.  She made lists of dishes to serve for certain birthdays.  I found lists she made of her planned menus for Christmas dinners and Thanksgiving lunches.

Her neat, tight, level handwriting spelled out her plan of action for entertaining the whole family for the holiday.  Occasionally, her notes featured prices of the items she planned to make, or whether she had a coupon, or notes on which market had the best sale.  On the nut cake recipe, in addition to lots of stains and smudges, were written the price-per-pound for all of the expensive ingredients: Butter $1.67, Candied Cherries 1.29, Pecans $3.75 (now three times the price).

Pricey Ingredients

Did I remember one of those specific Thanksgiving menus on slips of paper used as bookmarks in a recipe book?   Sometimes she dated the notes "Thanksgiving 1985" and I sat, wishing I could remember any specific holiday at her house.  But, they were unremarkable because they all pretty much featured the same menu.  Each planned item was a favorite of one of her children or grandchildren; there was her cornbread dressing, her sweet potato casserole, turkey (sometimes cooked by my grandfather on the grill until it was as dry as sawdust), asparagus casserole, cylindrical cranberry sauce with rings of indentations left by the can, her homemade potato rolls, and her nut cake.

Granna's nut cake was the perfect lovechild of fruitcake and poundcake.  I have never seen another recipe for this cake.  It has a golden crust showing just the slightest nut-shaped hints of the treasures inside.  Candied cherries, candied pineapple and chopped pecans are packed into the buttery cake with none of the crazy cloying citron or bizarrely-colored fruit of fruitcake infamy.  Granna always made the nut cake in advance (it bakes for three hours and has to cool in the pan) and wrapped it in multiple layers of plastic wrap, then aluminum foil to store in the freezer until the night before we arrived at her house.

Keith likes to take us all out to a restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner so that I don't have to "spend all day in the kitchen" instead of watching the Macy's parade on the couch with him.  But, I always make pies for dessert at home after the feast.  I always make pumpkin pie by Chief Wilma Mankiller's recipe.  Chief Mankiller was the Principal Chief of the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma for many years and she was an honoree at my college commencement.  Her recipe calls for baking pumpkin from scratch and it is Keith's favorite pie.

Everyone loves Mama Judy's pecan pie recipe, so I made a gluten-free version and a gluten-"full" version.  I also made a coconut custard pie on a gluten-free crust.  Mama Judy used to make a coconut custard pie (probably from Mrs. Dull's cookbook) but I found an appealing recipe clipped from a newspaper stashed in one of Granna's cookbooks.  It turned our very well.  I used frozen, prepared pie crust this year to save time.  The pies turned out just fine albeit with soggy bottom crusts, so I won't take the easy way out on pastry next year.

We've been rolling in pie and then cake for days.  It was a great weekend.

Granna's notes were her way to plan, organize and even savor the excitement of our visits.  She probably sat down at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee reviewing the list multiple times in preparation for a holiday.  When I look at the lists, I can see her working on them and her nut cake tastes like thanksgiving to me.

On Saturday:  The Chocoholic

A note about my taste-testing.

A few days ago, a friend asked me how and why I taste the gluten-full cakes that I have been baking every Saturday.  It is a good question.  I hadn't realized how strange it must seem for a gluten-intolerant cook to bake a gluten-full cake every Saturday, because for years I have been baking "normal" recipes for my friends.  When I started my Cake on Saturday endeavor, I decided to bake the recipes I chose according to their original recipes.  At the end of the year, I will start the experiments that will allow me to convert our favorite recipes of the year into gluten-free versions that I can eat.

I believe that to write honestly about each cake, I need to taste them.  So, here is more information than you ever wanted regarding my baking process...  After I take one small bite of each cake and analyze the texture and flavor, I quickly spit out the bite and rinse my mouth thoroughly.  Gluten intolerance isn't like an allergy in which mere contact with gluten triggers physical symptoms.  I can't digest gluten, so I try my best to keep gluten out of my digestive tract.  Sometimes it is a joyless job.  Sometimes it is torture to miss out on a great cake.  But, I have been very careful and haven't gotten sick from my taste testing.

September 19: Mallorie's Prune Cake

Keith's paternal grandmother, Mallorie Berger Hinze, and I apparently share quite a bit in common.  She passed away in 1993, so I never knew her.  But, I often hear stories about how she loved to cook and loved to entertain.

Bill and Mal in 1984

Mal (as she was called) was born in Boston and met, then married William Hinze in the Boston area.  His career took them all over the eastern seaboard until they ended up in Columbia, South Carolina.  Bill owned The Hinze Management Company there.  Mal and Bill's son, David, met and fell in love with a South Carolina girl named Margaret and the rest is Keith's history.

An original Hinze Management sign in our house

In the 1980's, Mal began to suddenly, drastically lose weight through some unknown cause.  She was literally wasting away until her doctors finally diagnosed her with Sprue, which is another name for Celiac disease.  She experimented with gluten-free recipes, she ordered GF bread from Canada and carried rice cakes with her so that she could be assured of having something she could safely eat.  It is an interesting coincidence that after I was diagnosed in 2005, I too ordered GF bread from Canada on several occasions.  I wonder why Canada used to corner the GF market.  Although Celiac is tested-for more frequently now, in 2005, the average diagnosis took ten years.  It is a miracle that in the 80's, Mal was correctly diagnosed in time to save her life.

Because of my Celiac condition, Margaret has lent me Mal's file box of recipes.  The box contains many interesting recipes, including some of her GF creations.  But the best parts of the box are the notations she made on the recipes; "good" or "delicious" on many.  Her friends gave her recipes without wheat that had notes like "hope this helps you on your diet."

One note says "I can eat this" and it made me nearly cry because I feel the same noteworthiness when I find things I can eat, even in this day of ready-made GF foods.  Mal also made notes on the cards indicating when she made the recipe, like "Sat. Jan. 16 Bridge."  She and Bill were avid bridge players, loved to entertain and hosted their bridge club often.

Keith has always aspired for us to entertain our friends in a similar fashion, so I will have to start trying out some of Mal's recipes for dips, cheese balls and canapés...

This week I tried her Prune Cake recipe.  It is not gluten-free.  It is in her handwriting and has a few little grease and extract stains on the edge of the card.  The cake contains the namesake prunes, plus buttermilk, pecans, allspice and mace.  After baking, the cake is covered in a buttermilk-caramel glaze.  The caramel (yikes!) turned out beautifully.  I made the cake in a bundt pan instead of Mal's recommended long loaf pan.  The cake was very moist and flavorful and I would note it, "delicious."

Since perusing Mal's recipes, I have found that an intolerance of gluten and an abiding love for Keith are not the only traits I share with her.  Judging by the sheer quantity of recipes, it looks like Mal and I shared some favorite foods - asparagus, cheese and any dessert with lemon, coconut or chocolate.  I wish I could have met her; we'd have had a lot to talk about.  Plus, I think I am going to need someone to teach me to play bridge!




Next Saturday: Hummingbird Cake

June 6: Spice Islands (?) Cake

Last week, while shopping for vintage books at a thrift store, our son, Colin, found a treat for me.  He found a set of activity books from the American Girls Collection for their character named Samantha who lived at the turn of the twentieth century.  Apparently, American Girls' Samantha also enjoys cooking, making crafts, trying-on new outfits and producing plays.  Sadly, there was only one cake recipe in the cook book from the set.  The recipe is for gingerbread, which reminded me of my Spice Islands Cake.

The Spice Islands Cake is one of my signature cakes.  I developed the recipe in order to replicate the delicious taste of the Allgood Pineapple Upside-Down Cake with whipped cream on top.  It was one of the recipes I created and tested when I was living in Washington, DC.  Whenever I had a difficult day (or week) at work, I would cook to relax.  I would take the resulting cookies, cakes, etc. to my office the next day.  I made many versions of this cake trying to get the spices, texture and appearance right.  I was a regular reader of Southern Living magazine and in 2004, I decided I was ready to submit this recipe to their annual recipe contest.

At that time, I called this "Pineapple Spice Layer Cake."  I obsessed over getting the written instructions simple and foolproof.  I even gave the recipe to a tester or two to see if they could follow the instructions I had written and arrive at an appropriate result.

The recipe uses three different types of sugar (brown, light brown and confectioners) and that year the contest was sponsored by Domino Sugar.  I figured that by specifying "Domino" sugars in my recipe, I would be a shoe-in for a brand-sponsored prize, if not a grand prize.

I did not win.

After I moved back home to Atlanta, I submitted this recipe again to the Southern Living contest.  But this was after my trip to Indonesia, my diagnosis of gluten intolerance, and a couple of years of sour grapes reading the "winning" recipes in issues of the magazine.  I decided that "Pineapple Spice Layer Cake"  was a boring name and that the name had cost me dearly in the judges' assessment.  For my second submission, in an attempt to take back some power from Indonesia, I named the cake Spice Islands.  I thought that it was clever.

Layers showing filling

I still did not win.

Everyone loves the cake, so the name must be my impediment to recipe contest glory.  Keith believes that my mistake in renaming the cake was two-fold; I named it after a place where I suffered terribly, and it could be confused with the Spice Island brand of herbs and spices.  I am now thinking of calling it Equator Cake since pineapples, cinnamon, ginger and cloves originated and a principally grown there.

Close-up of frosting

This (insert name here) cake consists of three layers of cake, with pineapple filling that is like a pineapple curd.  It is covered with a thick layer of stabilized whipped cream that contains even more pineapple.

Whether I submit this recipe to a contest again, or not, it is absolutely a winner.  The cake is moist and tender.  The filling is tangy with loads of pineapple flavor.  The whipped cream frosting has the creaminess to balance the spice and fruity tang of the cake and filling.  I wish all of my "pastimes" worked out this well.

Next Saturday:  Basil Pound Cake

May 23: Snow Cake

I love shopping at estate sales.  They are the best sources for inexpensive cookware, books of all types, vintage table linens, vintage hats, and vintage sewing notions.  It is sometimes difficult to see a person's belongings exposed and for-sale once he or she can no longer use them, their home thrown open to the public.  I admit that it makes me sad to see framed family photos or diplomas for sale when I imagine that the owner had always assumed that personal treasures like those would go to their next-of-kin.  But, I am sure that the owner kept all of their books (or hats, or buttons) because they valued them and I would like to think that he or she would be happy that someone else values those items, even if it is not a family member.

Two weeks ago, I made a terrific find at an estate sale!  I purchased a 1929 edition of The White House Cook Book.    Of the cookbooks for sale at the home, it was the only cookbook that looked as if it had gotten any use at all.  Judging from the other cookbooks and the appearance of the house, I believe that this cookbook was a family heirloom, not a cooking companion.  The owner of estate was an avid ballroom dancer with closets full of dance costumes and well-worn, gorgeous dance shoes.  She had flair!  Although her kitchen indicated that she did cook, it obviously wasn't her primary passion.

I bought The White House Cook Book even though it looks a little worse for wear, because I already own the revised and updated edition from 1996 and I had never seen another copy of the original for sale.  On the front and back covers there a rings of damage where an earlier cook had used the book as a trivet.  On the back cover, a yellowed paper doily has found itself permanently fused.  The previous owner, or perhaps the estate broker, attempted to repair the cover-to-spine joint with Scotch tape.

The original version was a 1887 copyright, written by the White House steward to Grover Cleveland.  My revised and updated version is a mere shadow of the original.  I purchased it from the Smithsonian Institution gift shop on an excursion to the museum.  When I lived in Washington, DC, I would spend many of my days off from the Secret Service visiting historical sites and museums.  Accompanying me on most of my adventures was another special agent, my friend, Darcy.  Since we worked at the White House and the book contained excerpts from the original book, we decided that I needed a copy.  As part of updating the book, Bazel and Ross included Hillary Rodham Clinton's cookie recipe and updated versions of the recipes they chose to reprint from the original.  The updated versions of the recipes read like methods of torture; using "liquid Butter Buds" reduced-calorie margarine and egg substitute to try convert an 1887 recipe on each page into a health-consious version printed on the facing page.  Grover Cleveland was, no doubt, turning in his very ample grave when this book came out.

Two versions, side-by-side, on my antique enamel topped table that I bought on a excursion with Darcy

As I very carefully perused the fragile pages of my newest acquisition, I found one page of the cake recipes that, judging from the stains on the paper, got a lot of use.  In the middle of the page is a recipe for Snow Cake with "delicious" in parentheses next to the title.  It caught my eye for both the parenthetical epithet and the fact that it uses arrowroot as the flour thereby making it gluten-free.

The instructions are minimal and antiquated, but I have grown accustomed to recipes of this sort.  It calls for "pounded white sugar" which would be granulated sugar, historically sold in cakes then pounded down to the flowing grains of sugar we recognize.  I decided to use caster sugar in case the pounded sugar turned out finer than our granulated sugar today.

In addition to being old-fashioned, the instructions seemed contrary to baking science.  I creamed the butter and sugar and gradually added the arrowroot as instructed.  Then I beat six egg whites to "a stiff froth."  Then I aded "them to the other ingredients and beat well for twenty minutes."  Two problems:  The other ingredients, when combined, had the consistency of dry oatmeal and I had always been admonished that over beating a dough or batter after adding eggs made the texture tough.  But, I decided to forge ahead as instructed in the book and get a workout by beating the batter by hand (no Kitchen Aid in 1887) for twenty minutes.  It calls for baking in a buttered mold or tin and I chose my larger tube pan.  I only baked it for forty minutes instead of the prescribed "one to one and a half hours."

My better judgement told me that twenty minutes of beating would overwork the eggs and I was right.  The resulting cake rose hardly at all and had a rubbery internal texture and a crispy dry crust.
But the flavor was sublime.  It tasted buttery, without feeling buttery like a pound cake.  It was not very sweet and would go beautifully with coffee or toasted and topped with jam or lemon curd.  So, rather than accept a terrible texture for a cake with flavor potential and gluten-free ingredients, I decided to make a second cake today in an attempt to remedy the problems I found with the original recipe.

I added 3/4 cup of whipping cream (alternately with the arrowroot) to moisten the batter before adding the egg whites.  I gingerly folded the egg whites in until just combined with the arrowroot mixture.  I used my smaller tube pan to give more height to the rising cake.  Although this improved the rise and the texture, the result was still rubbery evidence of overworked egg whites.  I think I will have to put some more work into salvaging this recipe to live up to its "delicious" hype.

A couple of days ago, I went to collect mail from our post office box and found a pleasant surprise.  Darcy had sent me a cookbook as a belated birthday present.  The book was a reprint of Ellen Emlen's handwritten recipe book from the collection of the  Historical Society of Pennsylvania.

As a contemporary of Grover Cleveland, Mrs. Emlen will be happy in her eternal rest knowing that no one printed her book with low-fat, low-cholesterol facsimiles included.  I hope that she will also be happy that I hope to use a recipe from her book in some future posting here.




Next Saturday: Pecan Molasses Bundt Cake with Bourbon Glaze

April 25: Robert E. Lee Cake

Among my many cookbooks from Bonnie Slotnick's Cookbooks in New York is Housekeeping In Old Virginia.  It was a gift from my mother.  This book is a 1965 reprint of one originally copyrighted in 1879.  The editor, Marion Cabell Tyree describes it as "containing contributions from two hundred and fifty of Virginia's noted housewives, distinguished for their skill in the culinary art and other branches of domestic economy."  Referring to herself, in the third-person, in the preface, Mrs. Tyree offers that "if she, above all, shall succeed in making American homes more attractive to American husbands, and spare them a resort to hotels and saloons for those simple luxuries which their wives know not how to provide... [she] will feel amply repaid for all the labor her work has cost."  I love this stuff.

Ad on reverse of clipping

The best parts of old cookbooks are the clues left behind that tell you about the previous owner of the book.  Inside the pages of my practically pristine copy of Housekeeping In Old Virginia, I found the clipping of the original late 60's magazine advertisement selling the cookbook as part of a cookbook-of-the-month club.  The book seems to have hardly been used.  I guess that the previous owner ordered the book from the ad, but kept the clipping in case she wanted to return the book to get a refund of her $3.95.  I don't know the magazine title or issue, but there is a strange and wonderful ad for Saran Wrap on the back side of the page.
  
Housekeeping In Old Virginia contains many gems among the recipes; tips on butchering and the storage of meat without an ice house, and how to take quinine without tasting it.  Some recipes are confounding in their apparent simplicity and this is the case with the "Robert E. Lee" Cake, submitted by "Mrs. G."  The recipe in its entirety:

Twelve eggs, their full weight in sugar, a half-weight in flour.  Bake it in pans the thickness of jelly cakes.  Take two pounds of nice "A" sugar, squeeze into it the juice of five oranges and three lemons together with the pulp; stir it in the sugar until perfectly smooth; then spread it on the cakes, as you would do jelly, putting one above the other till the whole of the sugar is used up.  Spread a layer of it on top and on sides.

A compelling recipe challenge!  After determining, from other recipes in the book, that jelly cakes are round layer cakes.  I set about deciphering the term "nice A sugar."  From what I was able to find on the internet, "A" sugar was a term for white granulated sugar.  Three ingredients in a cake with eggs as the only leavening agent, then iced with a filling that is fruit juice and sugar?  Could "A" sugar in 1897 be fine like a caster sugar?  How much pulp?


The cake was no problem.  It smelled egg-y during the baking and it rose high and even.  The filling was less successful.  Instead of stirring by hand while wearing a late Victorian corset and layers of skirts in a hot southern kitchen with no air conditioning, I used a Kitchen Aid to stir.  It took quite a while to dissolve the sugar and then I had sugary citrus juice that would never cling to a cake enough to use as a filling between the

layers much less on the sides.  I added more sugar and it turned grainy.  I gently heated the juice and lost the bright citrus flavor while not improving the texture.

So, I started over on the filling.  I tried using more pulp to add some more structure and more pectin to the mix.  I sectioned the oranges and lemons and retained the juice with the pulp.  This helped, but the texture was still only as thick as pancake syrup.  It was still a little grainy.  I set about icing the cake, juggling the runny filling as fast as I could.  Much of the juice soaked into the cake, leaving a coating of citrus pulp on the outside.  The results are interesting.  The citrus flavor interacts nicely with the egg-laden cake.  The cake is moist and light with a thin, crunchy crust.  The texture of the filling is still strange and a little grainy.  If I make a "Robert E. Lee" cake again, I will make it with orange/lemon curd filling similar to Lemon Cheese Cake (see March 7).

A recipe for "Robert E. Lee" cake, out of a cookbook from Old Virginia demanded to be made for Confederate Memorial Day, April 26.  I, like most native southerners, have Confederate veterans in my family tree.  Papa's mother, Sarah Angeline Sells Page, was an diminutive adolescent at the time of the war and she was a spy for the Confederacy.  She only stood 4'11" as a full-grown woman and during the war she was dressed as a young child and sent across enemy lines with maps and communiques secreted inside the body of her doll.  On my father's side, Granna's grandfather, Jefferson Smith, was a sharpshooter (sniper) in General Gordon's brigade.

Despite the fascinating Confederate history I have in my bloodline, our family never commemorated Confederate Memorial Day.  I don't remember special parades, commemorative services at cemeteries or even any mention of the holiday.  The way I found out that April 26 is Confederate Memorial Day is that it is also my birthday.  On my 16th birthday, my mother checked me out of school early to go to take my driving test and get my license.  We arrived at the license office in East Atlanta on Moreland Avenue to find it closed!  Georgia state offices were closed for Confederate Memorial Day back in the 1980's.

For my birthday this year, my mother will be making a gluten-free version of my favorite cake, Chocolate-Pineapple Cake.  A Chocolate-Pineapple Cake is the creation of Mama Judy's sister, Daisy Allgood Babb (called Aunt Whick, mother to Pat, Betty, Jackie).  It is a four-layered, 1-2-3-4 cake with tangy pineapple curd between the layers and dark chocolate buttercream frosting on the outside.  My mother has made this family delicacy for me for almost every birthday.  I cannot wait for tomorrow.  We'll have both a gluten-free cake and a citrus-y experiment of a cake for my birthday celebration!

My mom with my birthday cake in Jackson, Mississippi at my first house (before I removed that terrible wallpaper)

Now, if someone could give me an early birthday present and help me clean all of the sticky fruit juice and sugar out of my kitchen...

Next Saturday:  Mexican Chocolate Cake