it’s the morning after the night exploded.
it’s gentle out now. the pop and fizzle are long gone, replaced by mama wren singing. and mr. and mrs. cardinal chattering, as they imbibe on the annual inebriating feast of plump purple serviceberries, dangling from the bough.
i’m inhaling all of it, as i try for one short spell to push away the worries, the deadlines, the cobwebs in the corners.
this is what summer is for, the reason it exists: to catch the rhythm of your breath, to notice how it flows in time with tide, with water gurgling toward the lakeshore sands, then rolling out again.
this is a day for slicing watermelon, for scooping little balls of sweetness from soft and juicy flesh. for popping back blueberries by the fistful. for paper napkins catching all that dribbles — because you’d never get the fruity stains out of cotton squares or linen.
this just might be a day for cranking up the oven. and the grill, of course. but one short blast of cake baking just might be what the declaration of independence does declare.
because it’s a holiday, because we’re practicing the art of stepping out of time, and into the hallowed hollows of timelessness, i’m making like this here is a backyard with picket fence, and i’m leaning across the fence to hand you a recipe for the finest chocolate cake this side of the iowa state fair.
a dear college friend drove down from wisconsin a week or so ago, with a sheet pan of devilish deliciousness and the spelled-out recipe to boot. she left the whole darn cake when she packed up to head back north, and my boys declared it the finest chocolate cake they’d ever slipped between their lips.
with no more hoopla, and one sweet promise: here’s a slice of delicious summer’s succulence, brought to you courtesy of judy smith, who was motored here by one maureen haggerty warmuth. they’re two of the treasures i’ve held onto from my college days. and here’s the treasure to tuck inside your banged-up, battered, much-used tin of recipes. (fact is, this is all-season’s succulence, but since we’re at the fever-pitch of summer, we’ll tag it one for summer’s glory. seems just the thing to ferry to the independence day cake stand.)
minnesota chocolate cake
provenance: my friend judy smith’s dear friend tammi baumann
2 cups flour
1-3/4 cups sugar
1/2 cup cocoa
1 tsp. salt
1 Tbsp. baking soda
1 cup buttermilk
1 egg, slightly beaten
2/3 cup oil
1 tsp. vanilla
1 cup coffee brewed
Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
Beat together your litany of ingredients — batter will be runny.
Pour into greased and floured 9-by-13 pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 to 40 minutes.
In saucepan, dump:
1 cup sugar
3 Tbsp. corn starch
1/2 tsp. salt
4 Tbsp. cocoa
1 cup boiling water
Cook over medium heat while stirring, till thickened.
Remove from heat, and ADD:
1 tsp. vanilla
3 Tbsp. butter
Cool frosting and pour over cake.
grab fork. dig in. declare this a day for summer’s succulent sweetness — in all its many flavors.
p.s. there was a rumor wafting about the kitchen that this chocolate-y deliciousness might have won blue ribbon at one of those fine midwestern country fairs. fact or fiction, it won just such an honor here in our humble kitchen. so pinned by the boys who left not a crumb behind on the cake plate…
and what will you be ferrying to your independence day feast? and what’s your definition of summer’s succulence? how would you spend a holiday away from all that weighs you down?