"Here," I say grabbing the heavy tinfoil rectangle from the basket, "I know this is a little odd, but you want to eat this now. It won't stay super-fresh much longer." Reid smiled and received the offering. "Sure," he said. "I love cake."
I know Corrine won't be completely thrilled since removing the cake created a large hole in her magnificent basket. She and I have crafted a wedding gift for Reid—a young man for whom I used to babysit—and his lovely new bride, Sarah. We have traveled seventeen hours by car from Chicago to the Outer Banks of North Carolina to witness their wedding. We have brought for them a gift of liquor infusions, coconut macaroons, some odd pieces of barware, two hand-cut crystal shot glasses from Ireland and this pound cake.
I really shouldn't dismantle the gift we've brought, but I just can't stand the thought that the cake will go to waste, that folks here might not get to enjoy Cousin Elizabeth's pound cake. It seems a little odd that I would care that much. Cousin Elizabeth isn't my cousin. This isn't my recipe. We collected this beauty from a colleague who once stayed at our house in Chicago while she was at a conference. She brought us Cousin Elizabeth's pound cake. It was so good, we assumed that this would be a "secret" recipe, the kind that some families refuse to give away.
But this was not the case. We got the recipe and immediately, I could see the reason for the deliciously mellow character: cream cheese. Cream cheese rounds out the clearly recognizable ingredients: flour, butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla.
Every time I make this cake, I double-check myself. I look again for any kind of leavening agent. No baking powder or soda required. So amazing, I think, that the batter will rise at all. Must be the eggs, I decide, and think about the idea that this is a long-standing recipe, the pound cake. A pound of sugar, a pound of flour, a pound of butter, a pound of eggs. Those are the basics. The whole thing reminds me of "olden days" and I feel oddly connected to the past when I make it.
And, then I realize that's why I made Reid take the cake. For me, Cousin Elizabeth's pound cake creates a strange connection between the present and past—figurative and real. When I make this cake, I make it for friends with whom I feel a shared past; for friends with whom I hope to create a shared past. Reid is a man with whom I have been in relationship since he was born. Reid and his lovely new wife are people whom my family and I intend to be in relationship for a very long time to come.
We aren't family, any of us. But we aren't just friends; we're framily. And I offer my cake so you can taste just how grateful I am.
Cousin Elizabeth's pound cake:
—1 brick of cream cheese
—3 sticks of butter
—3 cups of sugar
—6 eggs
—1-2 TBS vanilla or vanilla bean paste
—3 cups of sifted flour
1 ) Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.
2 ) Lightly grease two loaf pans.
3 ) Cream softened cream cheese and butter using a mixer until it's nicely fluffy.
4 ) Slowly add the sugar while the mixer is going.
5 ) Then add the eggs one at a time until they are completely mixed in.
6 ) Add the vanilla.
7 ) Add the flour one cup at a time until it is thoroughly mixed.
8 ) Pour into the two pans—they will seem pretty darn full.
9 ) Bake for at least 75 minutes—check doneness with a toothpick and remove from the oven when the toothpick comes out clean.
Serve plain, or with berries and whipped cream.
