call me lazy

Yes, I know. I am the one who half heartedly made the new years resolution of 'one cake a month for the year'. I should have just stuck with the nude running.

March slipped by without a cake post. One of my readers, not so gently, reminded me of this. I actually baked a cake, or had one of my minions bake it for me, and failed to post it.

Without further ado, I bring you the March cake.

It is my grandmother's sour cream pound cake. It's rich, and if done properly, has a marble of only half baked buttered batter in the center. Matt made it with my supervision. He forgot the sour cream at first.
I set him straight. He actually did it all. It came out perfect and I'm a bit jealous.

that's weezie holding me circa 1968

We don't add the almond flavoring and I don't sift. I just fork it all around a bit. And FYI, we don't really make any allowances for baking at a high altitude. Weezie was a stickler for all ingredients being room temp, but I don't always have that much forethought.

Weezie was quite the grandmother. Her home was always so beautiful with her famous flower arrangements and her gracious hospitality. Her gardens were luscious and she always, but always, had pound cake and ginger ale for the unexpected guest grandchild. Oh, how I would love to hug her right now, and show her my children, and let them feel her adoring love. She would rave and rave about us, her six grand children. She would talk with us as though we were grown-ups and take us on frequent tours of her garden to see what was newly abloom. She was all flowers all the time. And what a lovely thing to be.

Oh Weezie, I am missing you today. Sniff sniff.

So the cake is special, you see.

Simple, sweet and fortifying. A sturdy cake that, for me, says LOVE.

It's also yummy in the morning, toasted with butter.

Enjoy.