Tomorrow Is A Good Day For Poundcake...

My family rarely gets along.

Whether it be Christmas, Easter, a wedding, funeral or a typical Tuesday, there are very few things my family can agree on.

One thing we can all agree on is pound cake.

The Million Dollar Pound Cake, to be exact.

A recipe brought to our family by my Great-Grandmother, Alyce Pauline or Mama to us younger generations, for which I was named.

She started this tradition that has spread from our immediate family to cousins, ex-wives and beyond.

The recipe was in fact, not from my Great-Grandmother.

The Million Dollar Pound Cake is a retro staple of Southern Living Magazine. But, penned by Mama in a spiral notebook from the late 60s, gives this recipe not only an air of her credibility and claim but a stamp all her own.

I truly am lost to think of a family member, friend or foe who would or has turned down Mama’s Pound Cake.

Except for Jared.

Jared is a friend from college - I baked these cakes all the time in school.

So here we were one night, watching the final moments of the bake through the offset lighting of the oven - as one does.

We all marveled at the smell and the ease with which the entire cake slid from the pan (more on that later).

I proudly sliced the still steaming cake to the joy of all in attendance and distributed each slice as if bestowing a gift.

As each of us was going in for the first bite, an admirer commented on the wafting scent, to which I blissfully stated, “Oh, it’s just almond…

SMACK.

Michael, another friend in attendance, immediately swatted the cake away from Jared with the swift movement of a cleaver. Thankfully he was alerted to our friend’s nut allergy.

The cake ended up on the floor but Jared didn’t end up in the hospital.

For that, we were grateful and I gladly ate the floor slice.

But back to my family…

Several weddings, funerals, birthdays and divorces have seen this cake and in each of those milestones, this cake has seen us through.

Whatever fights, discussion, or occasional laughter that may progress pre-poundcake, an immediate hush and subsequent silence befalls those in attendance, save the occasional grasp for a beverage - this batter’s a thick one.

When someone brings up the cake in conversation, we all refer to it as if speaking about a dear friend - with fondness.

Like a good love affair, this cake is sweet but unlike many raunchy romps, this cake is even better the morning after.

I can remember my mother and I baking this cake right after she and my father split up.

We didn’t even touch the cake that night - just went to sleep dreaming of the joy that came with the morning.

Pound Cake in the morning is my favorite, all of ours, infact.

I believe this love was driven from necessity.

The cake needs to sit upside down for a rather long time to lift properly from the pan.

It wasn’t until my early 20s that I realized we actually bake our pound cake in a Bundt pan, not a pound cake pan.

I had caused many a state of confusion with my conviction that a Bundt pan was a pound cake pan. When I confronted my family about this, they said it looked prettier and it was a pound cake pan to them.

Fair enough.

But don’t you dare try to top it with anything - no ice cream, no whipped cream, no syrup or even butter. It is after all, The Million Dollar Pound Cake.

You wouldn’t dare touch a million dollars with a can of Reddi-Whip, would you?

The only partner in crime this beauty needs is a cold glass of milk - to cut the pound of butter, 3 cups of sugar, and 6 eggs.

I never knew my Mama, she passed 5 months before I was born, but this cake always makes me feel like she’s right there - guiding me through the steps and sharing wisdom along the way.

Me and my namesake.

The biggest lesson she has taught me while baking our poundcake together is to never cook in anger.

Food can feel what you feel, so cook with kindness, patience and love. It truly tastes different.

Well, that and don’t overbeat the eggs. I once had an entire cake that tasted like a frittata.

Scrambled eggs in a cake is not a good look.

For as rich as the cake is, it always makes way for bittersweet memories.

It actually has been quite a few years since I made Mama’s pound cake.

The outlook on our family climate as well as my eating habits have changed as time goes on.

But what doesn’t change is the warmth in my soul that just the thought of that cake brings.

Even writing these words, I have a smile on my face while I listen to Wichita Lineman by Glen Campbell - reminding me of home where so many cakes were shared.

It’s almost midnight here, but sharing this story has given me a restlessness, in the best way.

So please excuse me as I go to check my pantry to see if I have all the ingredients.

I think tomorrow is a good day for a pound cake.