And A Little Love

When my stepdad passed away by suicide, I gained twenty pounds. From grief and stress, and also from the countless dishes dropped at our door. In the aftermath of the funeral, as my mom and I temporarily moved into my grandma's house, food followed. A truth well-known is that people will rally around you in a time of need, and one way they know they can help while still leaving room to grieve is by providing meals.

But ugly, selfish grief will attack your appetite. For me, my appetite grew ferociously, from stress and sadness, trying to fill my emptiness with food, and trying to pick up the slack for what my mom wasn't eating. The grief she dealt with took away her hunger, leaving her to just pick at her meals like a bird. Meanwhile, I devoured desserts and cleared casseroles. And although it all filled me physically, only one dish filled me emotionally.

It sounds cheesy but a homemade chocolate chocolate-chip bundt cake, with a sweet, creamy glaze, made a tiny crack in the wall of darkness that surrounded my family and me. This cake was not only delicious but it was extra special because of its maker. My best friend's mom baked this comforting confection -- a woman who I've known my whole life, who has helped me and created opportunities for me, and has also been a friend to laugh with and watch Big Brother with. She was so kind during this trying time, and the bundt cake was just the cherry on top.

The recipe for the heart-warming dessert (though I don't necessarily need it as she is generous enough to bake it upon request) is as follows:

First, the bundt cake itself:

1 box of Devil's Food cake mix

1 box of instant chocolate pudding

4 large eggs

1 cup of sour cream

a 1/2 cup of water

a 1/2 cup of oil (she prefers vegetable)

1 and 1/2 cups of chocolate chips

1 bundt cake pan

First, preheat your oven to 350 degrees, and grease your bundt cake pan.

Next, mix all ingredients besides the chocolate chips. Then, once mixed, stir in the chocolate chips.

Finally, pour the batter into your cake pan and bake for 45 minutes.

Then comes the powdered sugar glaze that makes a great cake into a phenomenal cake:

2 cups of powdered sugar, sifted

3 tablespoons of milk (she prefers whole)

1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

Whisk all three ingredients to your preferred consistency, then drizzle across the bundt cake, as little or as much as you want.

The amount this recipe makes depends on how much you end up loving it. I personally never want to share so it only feeds me. But if you are normal and have self-control, it should be enough for a handful of people. And although I could, and would, devour the entire cake, it is so much sweeter to share with family and friends, especially at a time when you need one another more than ever.

But the most important ingredient to the recipe of all? Love. I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous, but I promise you this -- that cake wouldn't have tasted as good or been as appreciated if it was pre-bought. Yes, an experienced stranger in a bakery could have whipped up a delectable version of the sweet treat and it would have been greatly appreciated, but they wouldn't have known me or my family, they wouldn't have known our delicate situation. My best friend's mom knows and loves us and it showed in her kindness.

So, my hope as you bake this cake is that it brings you even a semblance of the warmth and peace it brought me. I hope that it can fill up your stomach and your soul, not taking the place of the comfort brought by loved ones, but providing a small light at the end of the tunnel, a common ground to come together over when everything feels as if it's falling apart.

And if you choose to bake the cake for someone else, I pray they can feel the love you put into it because it really is the most delicious addition to any meal.