Let Them Eat (Grammom's) Cake. A Lesson on Inspiration and Iteration.

(Christmas 2020, Ephrata, Pennsylvania.)

Consuming something that makes us feel inspired — theatre, film, food, the outdoors — has the power to bring out the best versions of ourselves. As a result, it is no surprise that the internet is overloaded with copycat recipes of iconic American foods — foods that are inspirational.

Debate me if you’d like, but I’d include on this list Panera Bread’s Broccoli Cheese Soup, Cheesecake Factory’s Original Cheesecake, and Nabisco’s Oreos. The hacks are endless. However, is it not easier to just…go buy the real thing? I was interested in hacking an Oreo cookie until I realized I’ll never be able to get the recipe completely right and that spending three dollars for 30 Double Stuf cookies is more enjoyable than eternally failing at the copycat recipe. Because the point of hacking an Oreo isn’t to discover something new or make it better, but to reproduce a static, unchangeable, very rigid thing.

Foods inspire. But what do we do with inspiration? Do we attempt to preserve what works or search for ways to make our foods, and even job applications, ideas, and quality of life, better?

Enter stage left: my Grammom’s chocolate cake. Chocolate cakes of equal stature and proportion regularly disappoint. I realize they may not be hacking my Grammom’s cake, but they are of equal and humble stature. This is not to say there are chocolate cakes that are unable to surpass the quality and style of that made by my Grammom. I have been to Vienna and have blissfully tasted the Sacher Torte. I loved every bite. But can we really compare these two cakes? They’re incomparable. These are two different cakes. Of course, let’s not get all entrepreneurial and go looking for the copycat recipe for Sacher Torte. It allegedly remains a secret to this day. Traveler and food writer Reha Tanör discusses this in more detail here.

I say all of this to boldly proclaim: my Grammom’s recipe for chocolate cake really is just so inspirational. It possesses the perfect amounts of moisture, flavor, and richness. This recipe does not use water, but rather leans in to hot, strong brewed coffee. It is a recipe all to its own. 

I think it’s safe to assume that my list of inspirational foods and my Grammom’s cake are the result of an iterative process. Iteration is a word that I learned as a result of hiring a career coach who came from engineering and tech spaces. This word is not native to the arts and humanities. And I like the word. I define it as the process of designing, building, and testing my job applications, ideas, and social media content in order to improve the next application, idea, or post I create. The word “iteration” in the sciences reminds me of “adaptation” in the arts and humanities. Both words seem to ask: how do we learn from the past, live in the present, and create an informed future? Looking backward: how have existing processes and performances done such a thing?

As lovely as Grammom’s cake is, it does not have to remain in its final form. By using iteration, there are a few ways we can experiment and make Grammom’s recipe even better right now. Regarding the use of coffee, we could change the roast, or even incorporate a cold brew. The choice of cocoa powder offers another opportunity. Instead of Hershey’s, we could pick up something Dutch or Belgian. Her recipe calls for Crisco and I’ve substituted butter. Vegetable oil may also work to keep the cake moist. We don’t know how to improve what works until we try.

A few things are now true: Inspiration is subjective; I am pleased with this recipe; I remain curious; I will continue to eat chocolate cake elsewhere as I attempt to improve hers. 

Wanting to be inspired while also remaining open to the iterative process of cooking will eventually, inevitably create a standard, a road map, that asks others to partake, taste, contribute, disagree, and (fingers crossed) discover something new.

I am not attempting to recreate this cake exactly how Grammom made it. Is that even possible? That sounds like the most un-curious, limiting, and uninspiring kind of pursuit. The performance of her cake was accompanied by her kitchen, her knowledge, her dining room, and of course her. I would rather allow the memory of all that to inspire me than try to copycat her.

I want to continually, iteratively build upon what works so well with her cake and be open to something new. I don’t want to have arrived, but to dream of what is yet to come.

The best news of all is that we can have our cake, and all of its inspiration, and iteratively eat it too!

Yum. I’m salivating already.

(As an aside: my experience with vanilla cake recipes has not been the same. My vanilla cakes have mostly been dry and uninspired. As a result, I am happy to share that I am in search of a vanilla cake of similar stature to Grammom’s recipe below: moist, tasty, and the perfect amount of inspiration).

(As an aside: my experience with vanilla cake recipes has not been the same. My vanilla cakes have mostly been dry and uninspired. As a result, I am happy to share that I am in search of a vanilla cake of similar stature to Grammom’s recipe below: moist, tasty, and the perfect amount of inspiration).

Grammom’s Chocolate Cake

Cream the butter and the sugar together

1/2 cup butter (or Crisco, vegetable oil)
2 cups white sugar

Mix these ingredients together in a way that works for you. Add them all at once or in stages so that they are seamlessly combined.

2 eggs
2 cups flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla
3/4 cup cocoa

At this point you will want to add the baking soda into the hot coffee. This will ensure the baking soda blends well and does not clump when you mix into the batter. 

1 cup hot, strong coffee
2 tsps baking soda

Pour the batter into a standard 9"x13" cake pan or any pan of your choosing. This is also enough batter for two 9" round layer pans.

Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes, or until a toothpick can be removed clean.

Grammom’s Buttercream Frosting

First, cream the butter with the vanilla and salt.

6 Tbls. (1/3 cup) soft butter
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/8 tsp. salt

Gradually add the powdered sugar and milk. Go very light on the milk at first. If you add too much up front, you will need more sugar to thicken the frosting later.

1 lb. powdered sugar
3–5 Tbls. milk

I am told this produces enough frosting for 36 cupcakes or to give a top coating to a 9"x13" cake. However, if you decide to make a layer cake, you may want to triple this recipe. 

I’ve also found this frosting is not the best for fine or precise detailing. There is future experimentation I must do with meringue powder and hope it functions in buttercream like it does in royal frosting. 

(Circa. 1987. Grammom, my sister Michelle, and me, Reinholds, Pennsylvania.)