I recently found a childhood memory. A fast of my father’s boyhood kitchen. Premade boxed pound cake in a yellow box …
My grandmother didn’t bake, but in her ‘kitchen safe’ there was always a pound cake in a yellow box. When I saw that yellow box from my childhood sitting on the store shelf, I had to buy it.
I grew up with a mother who was an amazing cook, but an extraordinary baker. There was always a cake or pie or both sitting on the kitchen counter. Her specialty was a pound cake that was all the rage in the 1970s … Seven-UP cake. There were and still are many versions of this recipe floating around the Internet or tucked away in some family’s recipe collection. It was my father’s favorite.
The prepackaged pound cake in this yellow box couldn’t come close to my mother’s Seven-UP cake, but there was something about that cake in my grandmother’s kitchen that held a special childhood memory. I don’t think I ever saw that pound cake on any grocery shelf in Central Texas, but they were a staple in the part of southern Alabama where my father grew up.
When I opened the box and peeled off the cello wrapper a familiar aroma from my childhood surrounded me. The flavor the same … cake, but not very sweet just like those cakes my grandmother served. Dense, just a little bit dry, but so suchlike the cake of my childhood memory. I have no idea of the brand of those childhood pound cakes, but eating the on I bought had me sitting once again as a four-year-old at my grandmother’s table.
Copyright © 2017 Annie
Always…I wish you peace, joy and happiness, but most of all I wish you Love.
As Ever, Annie