Since the fire that destroyed my family’s house two weeks ago, everything’s been thrown into a strange state of chaos and unfamiliarity. Meals have been no exception.
My friend Kelly who lives across the street came out to sit with me at 4:15am when she heard about the fire. Besides giving me a pair of shoes to borrow, she also offered to make me banana pancakes. Although I couldn’t fathom the thought of food around the tight twisting of my stomach as the firefighters sat smoking cigarettes on what was left of the porch roof, it was a nice gesture.
One of the first tasks our neighbors undertook while doing their best to provide us with stability and generosity was arrange a schedule for cooking us dinners. Despite their attempts to coordinate, we still received enough paper plates stacked high with homemade brownies to last us a month.
Now that life has settled down a little and we’ve moved into the house we’re renting for the year until we can have ours rebuilt, it’s become a serious effort for my mom to concoct dinners. She’s been trying to recreate as many of our favorite meals from memory as possible, for the sake of comfort and familiarity. At the same time, the lack of cookbooks and our limited pantry stock have forced her to experiment and branch out.
This is the only other recipe I have left of my mom’s besides the few I’ve already put up here. I’d typed it up to post later. Fortunately, it’s one of the ones that has the most memories attached to it, simple as it is. It was my mom’s go-to recipe for impressing guests and pleasing the whole family, passed down from her mother. I copied it from fancy script on a worn, torn, yellowed scrap of chocolate-splattered parchment.
Cake Base
1 cup flour
1 cup sugar
4 eggs (beaten)
1 tsp salt
½ cup butter
1 tsp vanilla
16 oz can chocolate syrup
Mix ingredients; put in greased 13×9 pan. Bake 350° for 30 min.
Crème de Menthe
½ cup butter
2 tbsps crème de menthe
2 cups confectioners sugar
After cake is cooled, spread over cake.
Chocolate Glaze
6 tbsps butter
½ pkg chocolate chips
Mix and melt. Cool and spread over cake. Chill. Cut into squares.
I wish I’d begun this project sooner so I’d have more saved, for my mom’s sake. But what’s gone is gone, and we work with what’s left as best we can. At least there’s something, and well, at least there’s us to appreciate it.
