Seven-layer lemon- glazed cake
My granny was 81 when I was born, 96 when she died. She would have turned 97 that year had she survived till her birthday. Although she had lung cancer (she'd smoked unfiltered Camels and chewed apple tobacco till the day she died), it was pneumonia that stilled her heart.
One of my most vivid memories with her, is sitting at the kitchen table in her cozy, warm kitchen while she made a cake. It seemed to take hours. She moved slowly, gathering the ingredients: butter, eggs, flour, salt, and sugar. She told me stories that, sadly, I no longer remember while she softened, mixed and stirred, and stirred and stirred. Batter completed, she stood to pour it in the well-worn tins she'd prepared with shortening and flour. As the layers baked (not all at once as I recall), she made the best part: lemon glaze.
For my son’s first birthday (and many that followed), I made a Granny cake, as we have come to call it. I hunted for a lemon glaze recipe since my dad, grandma and great-grandma didn't know exactly how Granny made hers. I knew I had found it when the one I made sent me right back to Granny's kitchen, sitting on her lap, licking the spoon and eying the oven as we waited for the cake to bake.