Week 7: Nana's Baking Class
I feel like almost anyone you ask will tell you one of their fondest childhood memories and it will be from their grandparent’s house. For me, this is definitely the case. I grew up living with my grandparents until I was about seven. I have tons and tons of memories from their house and everything I did there.
I grew up with a grandmother (we will call her nana), who baked
cakes in her spare time. When I say she baked cakes, I don’t mean a box of cake
mix and a tub of store-bought frosting in the classic glass Pyrex dish. I mean bakery
style, wildly intricate details and cakes that had waterfalls in them. I was
fascinated every time she pulled out her big, old plastic tub of cake supplies
from the basement. I craved the days where she made cakes. I wanted so badly to
learn her every move when it came to making and decorating cakes. I would
always take her scraps of cut up cake that she trimmed off the sides, the extra
frosting she didn’t use, and all of the leftover decorations to make something
of my own. I thought it was so cool that I could color the frosting to make it whatever
color I wanted. I loved all of the sugar flowers and gum paste characters she had
for me to go through and choose the perfect things to top my creations.
Since she knew how much I loved watching her, she decided to
have her own “cake class” as she called it. She picked me up from school on a Friday
and I went home with her. Little did I know, I was in for the best treat ever.
She had planned a whole day of teaching me how to make a cake, showing me how
to decorate it, basically giving me a class on exactly what she did.
I woke up Saturday morning to the smell of warm vanilla cake filling the hallway and my room. I rolled out of the bed, still fairly groggy but excited to see what she was up to. I walked into the kitchen and instantly recognized the sound of her KitchenAid mixer whipping up a batch of frosting. This frosting was, and is, infamous in our family and friend group. If you tasted that frosting, you knew exactly where that cake came from. Anyway, I hear the mixer whipping frosting, I smell the most delicious and warm scent of vanilla cake. The freshly baked cakes always had this super sweet scent from the Baker's Joy cooking spray she would use in her pans. I was so excited to see what she had planned.
Once the steaming hot cakes were cooled down, it was time to
start! Nana grabbed a cake board, plopped a dollop of frosting onto it and set
it on the counter. I remember staring at it wondering why in the world she just
smeared frosting onto a cardboard circle. Then, she dropped the cake gently
onto the middle of the board, right on top of the frosting. Turns out it acts
as a glue and holds the cake down onto the board better.
Once the first layer was on the cardboard circle, she started
smearing frosting all over the middle of the cake she just laid down. Then, she
dropped the spatula back into the frosting bowl and turned to me as if to say “you’re
turn”. I grabbed the next layer of sweet-smelling cake off the cooling rack and
gently placed it onto the layer nana just frosted. I tried my hardest to make
sure the layers were even so my cake wouldn’t end up tipping over. I took a big
dollop of frosting just like I saw nana do and smeared it all over the top of
the layer I just added. I was so proud of myself. Until I realized my layer was
sliding right off the bottom layer because I was using full strength and force
to spread this frosting onto such delicate cakes. For the next layer I made
sure to take it slower.
Finally, all of the layers are assembled. Now what? I had no
idea what to do so I just stood there staring at this three-layer cake I just made.
Nana told me I needed to frost the entire outside now. I had to use the white frosting
first and then I was allowed to color it and decorate how I wanted. I iced the
whole cake, very fast so I could get to the fun part, so as you can imagine the
cake was rather…lumpy. I missed several spots, so they were just naked cake pieces,
I overdid it on a few spots, hence the lumps.
I was happy with the job I did. I was done and it was
finally time to decorate! I was ecstatic. I immediately started rifling through
nana’s entire collection of food coloring, trying to pick the BEST colors for
this cake. For some reason I settled on this oddly bright orange, a pale baby
pink, and teal. Yup. Teal. At the time, this sounded like a great plan. I
started whisking these little bowls of frosting with food coloring. The orange
was bright and colorful immediately after I started stirring. The teal was the
same. The pink, kind of blah. It wasn’t my favorite. So I decided hot pink was
the better choice and quickly added massive globs of food dye to the bowl. Sure
enough it was bright pink within seconds. I had all of my colors and I was
ready to to go. I started frosting the teal on the bottom half first. Then for
some terrible reason orange followed it. Do you know what happens when you mix
teal and orange? Not good things. In the end I had a brown cake with some hot
pink spots and sprinkles all over it. Also I should probably add that I used
about 14 packages (ranging from 6 per pack to 12 per pack) hard sugar flowers
and shapes. The cake was terrible but I LOVED it. I was so proud and overjoyed
that I made my very own “nana cake”.
In the end, I really believe that nana having her “cake
class” is what made me fall in love with baking. I still bake often, and I have
definitely perfected my frosting colors and decorating technique. Thankfully. It’s
memories like this that come to mind when I pull out my KitchenAid mixer and
start using all of the thing’s nana taught me. Now, I take her cakes and treats
and show her how great she did teaching me what she knew. Anytime I hear a mixer
going now, I instantly smell the sweet vanilla cakes and that “secret recipe”
frosting. Every time.
Wow, these sound like some amazing memories you have with your nana. Anything that involves grandma's and food is a great combination for me! Some of my best memories happened along side my grandma. I miss her like crazy so this post touched my heart.
ReplyDeleteI can smell the cake baking in the oven during your Friday night baking session. Wish I could get a spoon full of that frosting! The guidance you get from grandparents is unmatched. So much patience and grace when they are teaching you. Always a lesson to be learned. You actually feel okay with your mistakes after they talk with you. Love this post! Love the details you have. Great job mate.
Your emphasis on the smells and sounds do well to invoke the imagery and the feeling of waking up to baking. It reminds me of the holidays when I was little, waking up after sleeping in to find my mom already baking the Christmas goodies. Your topic is also very relatable. In a family everyone is known as "the one who..." and there's always the one who bakes, the person whose recipes everyone loves and wants - and it's usually grandma.
ReplyDeleteLike other commentators, the strength of your posts rests with the smells you create in the post. They bring us back to shared moments we have had whether that be with a grandmother, parent, etc...
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