October 24: Sweet Autumn Cake

I got double the cake duty last weekend.

Saturday was our Autumn's 18th birthday.  In honor of the big occasion, I chose the possibly-eponymous Sweet Autumn Cake from The B.T.C. Old-Fashioned Grocery Cookbook by Alexe Van Beuren.  B.T.C. is a grocery on the town square in Water Valley, Mississippi.  It was started by Van Beuren (a Virginia native) to bring back the old-school general store; they serve breakfast and lunch and fresh baked goods in addition to selling grocery staples and produce.  B.T.C. stands for "Be The Change" after a quote from Ghandi that says "you must be the change you wish to see in the world." The cookbook was a gift from Keith because he liked the concept of re-creating a small-town general store and serving creative classic foods.  But, he also likes to joke that B.T.C. stands for Bind-Torture-Cook, like the B.T.K. serial killer claimed to Bind-Torture-Kill.

This cake seemed like an inspired match for Autumn's birthday because she loves sweet potatoes, plus, cream cheese frosting is a favorite.  Autumn also requested that I make my Lemon Buttercream Cupcakes for her to take to school on Friday.  As a high school senior it wasn't important to take cupcakes to her class.  But, Autumn has an internship at a preschool near her high school.  All of her pre-K students bring cupcakes for the class on their birthdays and she didn't want to let them down.

I went ahead and made extras for her to take to her classmates in the International Baccalaureate program, too.  Some of the pre-K kids didn't care for the lemon cake and brightly-tangy lemon buttercream, but the teachers and high-schoolers loved them.  Each cupcake was decorated with "Autumn Sprinkles" hand-applied by Autumn, herself.

Graham-Pecan Crust

The Sweet Autumn Cake didn't need any decorations.  it was quite complex, elaborate and rich with sweet potato and spices in the cake and pecans and caramel drizzles to decorate the top.  There was an added layer of texture and flavor because the recipe calls for pressing a graham cracker crumb/pecan crust into the bottom of each cake pan before adding the cake batter.  This crumbly mixture made it difficult to handle the layers without crumbs flying all over the kitchen.  The crumbs also made for trouble when trying to frost the cake.

Overall, we judged the sweet potato and spice cake layers to be winners.  However, the effect of the cake layers, cracker crust, frosting, caramel and nuts was too, too rich.  The cake is a killer!  I love the idea of making the sweet potato batter, adding pecans (pineapple too?) and then spreading-on cream cheese frosting.

Excited about Furman, and not just the sassy shirt, either!

After a dinner at Fogo de Chao, Brazilian Steakhouse, the family returned home for Sweet Autumn Cake and watched our sweet Autumn open her presents.

This weekend will be another big one for Autumn.  Saturday is Halloween (a favorite), and Sunday is the deadline for her Early-Decision application to Furman University.  Furman has great opportunities for undergraduate scientific research and Autumn wants to go to medical school to eventually become a Medical Examiner.
Perhaps she will help catch the B.T.C. killer?

Next Saturday:  Caramel Cake IV

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.

October 17: Fresh Apple Cake

Shortly after our engagement on Valentine's day in 2006, Keith wanted us to take a trip to see his parents in Columbia, SC.  I was stressed; I was afraid I wouldn't measure up to their expectations.  I was also afraid that I would be sized-up for the way I related to my future step-children.  After we arrived, I then became anxious when a discussion of plans for our wedding elicited a show-and-tell of wedding pictures from Keith's first wedding.

Imagine my relief that weekend when Margaret suggested exploring a used book store.  Our whole family loves books and getting lost in a book store was an especially welcome diversion for me.  It was there that I found my copy of the First Lady Cookbook: 200 Years of South Carolina Cookery, 1976.  I thought a First Lady cookbook was a perfect way to commemorate our visit to Keith's home state.

The cover shows the image of the palmetto which, with a crescent moon, symbolizes the state on its flag and graces the bow tie, belt, coaster, bumper sticker, and tailgating-tumbler of EVERY South Carolina native.  South Carolinians take pride in their state and its flag.  Georgians, although very proud, don't adorn themselves or their cars with the state flag.

In addition to some delicious-looking recipes, the First Lady Cookbook contains some hilarious political references:  recipes for "Kissinger Kraut Salad," cookies called "Campaign Kisses" and a "Specialty for all Politicians, Lye Soap!"  Priceless!

This recipe for Fresh Apple Cake looked appealing with apples, cinnamon, and butterscotch morsels sprinkled on the top.  It contains both baking powder and baking soda.  The combination made for a quick rise of the cake, but the cake tasted strangely of only cinnamon and baking soda to me.  The fresh apples, although fragrant and delicious before they went into the cake, brought very little flavor to the finished product.  The butterscotch morsels that I thought would bring a caramel apple flavor to the cake, just made it too sweet.


I think this turned out to be the worst tasting cake I have made all year.  Keith and the kids think I have judged the cake too harshly, but they aren't impressed with it either.

I am thankful that I made a better impression on the Hinzes, and that Keith is a far better catch than this recipe.

Next Saturday:  Sweet Autumn Cake

October 10: Molasses Cake

This Molasses Cake is from one of my absolute favorite cookbooks, The Art of Cooking and Serving, by Sarah Field Splint.  The book was published in 1930 by Proctor and Gamble.  It is a hardback book issued for the purpose of promoting Crisco brand shortening.  I hadn't tried any of the recipes from the book before, but I just love to read the chapters of advice.

I bought the book from Bonnie Slotnick's Cookbooks in New York in 1999 or 2000.  This was before I received my favorite cookbook, The Atlanta Woman's Club Cook Book (1921).  I had coveted Mom's AWC cook book for years because there were so many fantastically-period housekeeping tips.  I adore the tidbits of instruction on being a good housewife and preparing balanced nutritious foods; the recommendations seem so bizarre and old-fashioned to us now, but the glimpse they provide into the lifestyle of American homes in the 1920s is delicious!

Proctor & Gamble introduced Crisco in 1911 and used to publish a cookbook of Crisco-centric advice and recipes every year.  P&G was targeting the prosperous upper-middle class of the 1920's to set the style and spread the word about their shelf-stable, hydrogenated shortening.  The first chapters of the book are devoted to setting up a modern kitchen, service of meals, and the planning of meals.  We start with a chapter on "Table Service in a Servantless House."

"To the woman with no maid, entertaining at dinner is the very ultimate test of skill."

This chapter includes advice on Sunday night supper.  It is presented as an established and well-known practice of having Sunday supper be the casual-meal-of-the-week.

"The very term 'Sunday night supper' has a special flavor of its own.  Immediately it conjures up freedom from the usual routine.  Often the man of the family who has secret yearnings to cook has his chance on Sunday night, and turns out something staggering to the imagination of his family.  One nationally known literary man has made almost as much of a reputation among his intimate friends for his Welsh rarebit as for his novels of contemporary life.  Almost anything is likely to go into the making of it, while the wife stands by in apprehension...  In no way can a family more truly express hospitality than by giving a standing invitation for their friends to 'drop in' for Sunday night supper.  Especially can the family without a maid entertain easily this way, making the Sunday evening at home an occasion of real delight to their friends...  The dining table should be prettily set and lighted with candles...  The fare usually consists of cold meat, salad, a hot food prepared in a chafing dish, or scalloped potatoes, or Boston baked beans or spaghetti with a wonderful Italian sauce, brought very hot from the kitchen...  The dessert may be layer cake or cream puffs or delicate home-made tarts."

I must confess that I am a little afraid of a meal that is "staggering to the imagination."  Also, I am dying to know the literary man of such rarebit repute.  What did he write?  Moreover, why haven't I ever truly expressed hospitality by issuing a standing invitation to our friends for the staggering dishes prepared by the man of the house with secret yearnings??!

Having exhausted ourselves on the prospect of Sunday night supper and all of its implications, we continue to a chapter on "Table Service in a House with  Servant."

"...Rare indeed is the perfect maid; if she exists our friends are the lucky possessors, and such as fall to our lot need training and endless encouragement...  Any maid worth having wants to look her best in the dining room and to wait on table properly.  She should be supplied with well-fitting uniforms of washable cotton for the morning, of black or gray material for the evening, with plenty of white aprons and collars and cuffs."

After this eye-opening chapter, there are segments on cooking equipment and meal planning.  Instead of the chapters progressing logically by course, as in most other cookbooks, we are launched immediately into a chapter of "Deep Fat Frying" with Crisco.  The chapter on frying includes a recipe for something called "Fried Creams" which is a concoction of eggs, sugar, scalded milk and vanilla that is then rolled in bread crumbs and fried.

In the meal planning chapter, I found that the proposed Saturday dinner menu containing this molasses cake has the main course of "Braised Sweetbreads on Toast."  I did not serve this cake with the recommended menu.




I would never have made a cake with Crisco, but the recipe called for exactly that.  It also called for combining the molasses with the baking soda which created a spectacular, tortoise-shell slurry which was then added to the batter.  The cake was difficult to get fully baked without over-baking the outside and causing it to be dry.  I wonder if the dryness was also due to the use of Crisco instead of butter; I may have to research the differences in moisture content if I make this cake again.    It was a good cake with the flavor as its most positive attribute.  The molasses and raisins with mace, cloves and cinnamon was deep, dark and delicious.

Tomorrow (!):  Fresh Apple Cake

October 3: Lemon Cake with Lemon Buttercream

Maggie Angeline Page Hill, wearing Blaine's Airborne Wings on a suit made by Mama Judy
in her engagement photo for the Atlanta newspapers.  The suit matched her blue eyes.

This weekend, my cake is one of my own recipes.  I developed this recipe for a Lemon Layer Cake with a tangy, buttercream frosting years ago when I was entertaining the idea of having a cupcake and tea shop upon my retirement from the Secret Service.  I have made cupcakes from the recipe for birthday parties, showers, and I even made hundreds of them for a fundraiser for Georgia Shakespeare.  It is an absolute favorite of everyone in our family.

Maggie with my mom at the beach

Any dessert with lemon has always been a favorite in our family and perhaps that is because it was a favorite flavor of Mama Judy who did the baking when my mother and her mother were growing up.  Tuesday the 6th is the 95th anniversary of my grandmother, Maggie's birth.

Mama Mag never did much cooking, but she made delicious cornbread and she loved to eat.  She always asked to go to restaurants that served the things she loved but never got at home; Judy cooked traditional southern dishes and baked perfect southern desserts.  But frog's legs, fried chicken livers, raw oysters and fried oysters all had to be enjoyed by Maggie when she went out to eat.  She had eclectic taste in foods and no fear of trying new things.

Maggie was not a traditional grandmother to me.  She lived with Mama Judy and Papa and they filled the "grandparent" roles when I visited.  Mama Mag was more like a playmate to me.  We sat on the floor and played  card games like Crazy 8's or Battle using sticks of Fruit Stripe chewing gum to place our bets.  She let me play in her makeup and with her costume jewelry.  She would sing and clap her hands to songs on the radio or music played by bands at the mall.  When I was a teenager, she would joke with me like she probably did with her girlfriends as teens.  We would be driving down the street and she would see a punk with a mohawk, or a hobo, and say to me "well, there goes your last chance..." then she would start to roll the window down to call him over.

In 1940, she was pictured in the Atlanta Journal at a jitterbug dance contest in Grant Park.  She was one of the contestants and she kept the newspaper clipping pressed in the family bible along with other flat keepsakes like her school diplomas, blood donation awards and corsages from who-knows-what occasion.  My mother turned the clipping into a collage for me as a reminder of my uninhibited and fun-loving grandmother.  Maggie always lived in-the-moment and didn't really care what people thought (much to her mother's chagrin in her rebellious youth).

"The sky's the limit and there ain't no sky" reads the caption from the Atlanta Journal

 Maggie was the luckiest person I have ever known, probably because she did live optimistically in the moment and she believed that she would win.  She won every contest or raffle she entered.  When I was in high school, on Friday nights, I would go with Maggie to weekly bingo at the retirement high-rise where she lived.  Friday night bingo with my grandmother?  Maybe Maggie was right to think that those undesirable fellows on the side of the road could have been my "last chance" at getting a date.  She won bingo every Friday.  The other residents hated to see her coming, I'll bet, because she not only won the games but usually the door prize raffle, too.

I never won a bingo game there, but I did win the door prize one night.  It was the first thing I had ever won.  The prize was a cake, donated by a local bakery for Branan Towers bingo night.

Maggie on our Florida road trip, 1987

Probably since the place was opened in the 1960s, Maggie had always wanted to visit Disney World, but she had never had an opportunity to go.  In the summer before I left for college, I took Mama Mag on a road trip to Orlando, just the two of us.  We did everything she most wanted to see:  the killer whale show at Sea World (she was disappointed when we didn't get splashed), Disney World (she loved the runaway mine train) and we walked around the world at Epcot.  Our main destination at Epcot was Germany so that she could enjoy weinerschnitzel and a beer at the Biergarten like the ones she remembered from her life in Germany.

Maggie died in 1994.  Hospitalized from respiratory failure, but determined and feisty to the end, she passed away after removing her own respirator tube when Mom and I stepped out of her hospital room for a few minutes.

Maggie had no fear, lots of memories and always expected to win and I'll bet you a stick of Fruit Stripe that she would have loved this Florida citrus cake for her birthday.

Next Saturday: Molasses Cake

September 26: Hummingbird Cake

I am not sure why I've never made a Hummingbird Cake before.  It's a very popular cake in recipe books from the southern U.S.  There is much speculation about how the cake got its name and how it became popular in the South since bananas, cinnamon and pineapple are not native.  Much of the lore regarding the name comes from the sweetness and fruitiness of the cake being sweet enough to attract a hummingbird.  It seems like the cake's origin was from Jamaica (hence the tropical fruits) but the recipe proliferated after being featured in Southern Living magazine in the 1970's.

This recipe is from The Best of Georgia Farms cookbook, a collection of recipes from the Market Bulletin published by the Georgia Department of Agriculture.  It is an oil based cake, like a carrot cake, so it is moist and tender.  This Hummingbird Cake is far superior to a carrot cake (even mine, see March 28) because of the depth of flavor from the bananas.  Plus, there's never anything wrong with a cake containing both pecans and cream cheese frosting.  Perhaps it's called a Hummingbird Cake because it goes SO FAST.

My lack of experience with a Hummingbird Cake is even more baffling when I consider that it is my namesake cake.  Not a Samantha cake, Hummingbird Cake.  In Cherokee tradition, your mother's father names you, and in most respects the name is symbolic and not used on official documents like a birth certificate.  My mother's father, Blaine, named me Walelu (wah-leh-lu), hummingbird, at my birth.  I loved that I was named for a bird so quick and beautiful.  But the best attribute of hummingbirds, I think, is their bravery.  A hummingbird will fearlessly attack a much bigger bird, even an eagle, if its nest or family is in peril.  I know that bravery, like my name, comes from Blaine.

My full-blooded Cherokee grandfather was born on the reservation in 1915.  He was educated in a school on the reservation, run by the US government that kept children separated from their families not just by the content of the curriculum, but also by a tall fence.  His mother, Luzene Sequoyah Hill, had herself been removed from her family and shipped off to the Carlisle School in Pennsylvania for her childhood education.  The government removed her from her family, changed her hair, her language and her clothes to train her to be a domestic for a white family.  Remembering the pain of her own loss and homesickness made her walk down the mountain every day to stand outside the fence of the reservation school to watch over her own children.

Blaine 

There is a long and proud tradition in Native America of volunteering for the U.S. armed forces.  Blaine followed this tradition and a family legacy; he enlisted for the U.S. Army in 1938 and joined the 82nd Airborne paratroopers.  He fought in World War II and returned home.  He also fought in the Korean Conflict with the 101st Airborne and logged over 100 jumps in his career.  Back home, he and another Cherokee veteran, in full uniform,  would be pictured in newspapers nationwide as they were turned away from voting in the state of their birth, North Carolina.  Even though indians received US citizenship and the right to vote in 1924, many states refused to allow them to vote.

Maggie and Blaine

Blaine met my grandmother, Maggie, in Cherokee, NC when her family was there on vacation in 1945.  During their courtship, my grandmother and her best friend, who was also dating a soldier, branded their beaux's initials on their thighs (at stocking-top level) using the blazing red tips of matches.  At the time, in Fulton County, GA, interracial marriages were against the law.  So, after being refused in Atlanta, Blaine and Maggie drove to Lawrenceville, the county seat of Gwinnett County, to be married by an agreeable judge after hours.  My mother, their only child, was born the following year.  As a part of Blaine's military career, their little family lived in Mainz, Germany for a time while my mother was in elementary school.  Blaine and Maggie stayed together for as long as their clash of cultures and family pressures would allow.  After returning from Germany, the marriage ended and Blaine moved away from Atlanta.

Blaine, Mom and Maggie

Split oak baskets dyed with butternut or black walnut foraged by Blaine

My mother saw Blaine only sporadically as she grew up.  He would come to town to visit her and bring her gifts.  He never stayed in Atlanta long.

After I was born, he would continue to make visits to town at least once a year.  He lived for a time in Chicago, IL, Nashville, TN, and on the Cherokee reservation.  Whenever he visited, he brought us fantastic gifts; occasionally, fancy, store-bought items, along with items he created using traditional Cherokee methods.  When I was about seven years old, he brought me an umbrella; navy blue with a gold-tone, plastic handle studded with plastic cabochon "jewels."  I had never seen such a fancy umbrella in all of my life and I was afraid to use it in case I ruined or lost it.  It made me feel like a Victorian lady, as did the pairs of gloves he brought me on several occasions.

Blaine was an artist, a terrific wood carver.  He made carvings of animals that he sold at craft stores in Cherokee.  He made an indian-head-carved violin for my mother who played violin in high school.  When I was in fourth grade, he made me a dulcimer, and I learned to play it from a Foxfire artist in the mountains of North Georgia.  When I was in the fifth grade, he visited and brought me a Cherokee blowgun he had made himself.  The gun was made from straight, hollow, river cane and he had made darts complete with rabbit fur fletching.  He showed me how to use the blow gun using a target painted on a cardboard box in our back yard.  Blaine gave us split-white-oak baskets using oak and natural dyes (blood root, yellow root, butternut & black walnut) which he hiked into the mountains to gather.  Also, he would bring us sacks of black walnuts that he had gathered in the woods, or trout he had just caught that morning in the mountains.

Some of Blaine's animals:  swan, crane, wolf, buffalo and an incongruous giraffe.

Dulcimer and violin

Almost every time Blaine came to visit me and Mom, Maggie seemed to know somehow that he had been there to see us.  For years, she would ask on the day of his visit or in the days that followed, "have you heard from Blaine?"  Maggie never remarried, and I believe she always carried a torch for her ex-husband.  Blaine died in 1992.  Maggie hadn't asked about him in a long time by then, but shortly after he passed, she asked my mom if he had died.

I am surrounded by Blaine's tangible gifts of art and the best thing he made, my mom, the artist.  Lately, I have been thinking about news stories on marriage equality,voting rights, racism, patriotism, and true bravery.  I have trying to rely more on the power of instinct. And I have been thinking about my grandfather who named me after a brave and beautiful bird.

Next Saturday:  Lemon Cake

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