I grew up thinking cakes were made at home from boxes. No one told me this, I just thought I knew. It was because there was some special ingredient or something technically difficult to do that required factory preparation. I was probably more of a pie person at that time, because my mom made her pies from scratch, all sorts like apple and pumpkin in the fall, sour cherry, red raspberry and black raspberry in the summer.
A year after Larry and I were married, his younger brother Paul married Becky. At the reception in Lancaster, there were two wedding cakes, a white one for the bride, a chocolate one for the groom. Becky made both from scratch. Herself!! The groom’s cake was a Sachertorte originating in Austria, which made sense, because Paul’s family is from Germany and they would be familiar with this cake. Pre-internet, I am not sure where this variation of the original Sachertorte was found, but in my immediate family, we refer to it as Becky’s. This cake uses ground hazelnuts and melted dark chocolate chips in the batter; undecorated and warm from the oven, a round is like a heavenly brownie. I always wonder if I should just stop and eat it right away as is. To construct the finished cake, each layer is topped with a thin film of strained apricot jam followed by whipped cream. The outer surface of the cake is covered with more apricot jam and then a simple combination of melted dark chocolate and softened butter. It is a lovely luscious cake. Becky and Paul’s wedding was on a very hot day and I do not remember any air conditioning. Early on her wedding day, a relative or friend appeared in the kitchen as Becky was wrestling with the chocolate icing (and likely covered in chocolate) and said, “Aren’t you supposed to be the bride?”
I learned to bake cakes from scratch. My first two cake books were given to me by Becky’s father one Thanksgiving. He had been to an auction and, thinking of his daughter, bought a pile of cooking books. With my younger son in a baby backpack looking over my shoulder and my older son playing in a pile of flour with his Matchbox trucks, I was on my way. Becky’s Sachertorte was a made numerous times, a favorite birthday cake for my sons. Through the years, Becky shared many more recipes with me. She was not just a fantastic baker but a talented cook. As for cakes, I could always count on her to taste and appreciate them as a special treat for us to share.
