Hero Cake

A reader asked if I was going to do something special for Thanksgiving on the blog. Our family had plans to go out of town this year, meaning my cooking time would be minimal. So I had basically written off (pardon the expression) doing anything special for Thanksgiving. But then, the day before Thanksgiving, Elli and I met a man who changed my mind. We never learned his name, only that he was nearly 84 years old and he had to cut up is food into small pieces because one side of his jaw was badly damaged from the effects of an explosive he was unfortunate enough to be near during an invasion on Okinawa during World War II. "My whole body is beat up from the war," he told me. "But I'm doing OK." He wore a "World War II Veteran" cap proudly, decorated with various pins, including a Purple Heart and other insignia. "God bless you," I told him, though I'm pretty sure he didn’t hear me because he went on to tell me that he was missing the first 20 minutes of "Deal or No Deal." He reminded me of my late grandfather, who also served in the Pacific theater during World War II, and who also veered abruptly to mundane topics when he either couldn't hear or didn't want the spotlight to dwell on him. Or both. My heart went out to him, and, yes, I admit—shamelessly—my eyes welled up on the way home for him. I prayed that he had somewhere loving to go for Thanksgiving. I’m a sucker for veterans, especially those of World War II. They served without expecting anything in return. They sacrificed without complaint or thought toward reward. "Elli," I told her on the way home, "you can tell Daddy you met a real hero." Deep from my memories of high school history I remembered that during the Second World War, basics were rationed, forcing women to get clever on how to make their sugar, eggs, meat, etc., stretch. I decided to honor that generation by making one of their recipes. I found this one on the National World War II Museum website. War Cake ½ cup shortening (bacon grease can be substituted) 1 tsp cinnamon 1 tsp cloves 1 tsp ginger 1 cup chopped raisins 1/2 tsp salt (estimated because the original recipe does not list quantity) 1 cup sugar 1 cup water 2 cups flour ¼ teaspoon baking soda 2 teaspoon baking powder Boil sugar, shortening, raisins, salt, water and spices for three minutes. Remove from heat and let cool completely. Shift together flour, baking soda, baking powder. Add to shortening mixture; beat well. Pour into greased 9x5 loaf pan. Bake 350 degrees for 45 minutes. Let the record show I cringe at the thought of shortening, and the sight of bacon grease makes me gag (I'm a farm girl, remember; I've seen bacon grease used in ways.....ugh). But if Mr. Hero can sacrifice his jaw, I can sacrifice my personal preferences for one recipe. I bought the smallest can of Crisco I could find: 16 oz, a lifetime supply. The one thing I couldn’t find is ground cloves, probably because of all the pies being made this time of year. The World War II generation endured much heavier burdens. Elli and I forged ahead sans cloves. We started out by dumping the first eight or so ingredients into a pot sitting on the counter. Elli helped me measure and pour all things that would pour, like the spices. I don't recall ever smelling mace before. I think I would have remembered that smell. "Oh man," I said without thinking upon first sniff. Sure enough I heard a sweet little echo, "Oh man!" "That sure is strong," I said. "Hope it tastes better than it smells." "Yeah," she said. For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to have Elli pour the water by herself. One massive puddle and soaked sock later, I decided to always lend her a hand. God love her, she tries so hard. Before long, the raisin mixture was ready for the stove, and it looked, well, weird. I was skeptical. "You think this is right?" I asked Elli. She looked in the pot but didn't respond. I consoled myself with the notion that she had no idea what I was saying. I put the pot on the stove to boil, and we worked on sifting the other dry ingredients into a bowl. We formed a little pond in the flour mixture in which to pour the cooled raisin mixture. Then it was beater time. Elli was mesmerized by the beaters. I must remember this tidbit for future reference. Maybe next time I'm having trouble keeping her hands away from the stereo I can just turn on the hand mixer and let her stare at it until she forgets what a stereo is. "Hey, it actually looks like batter!" I said with delight. "Want to help me pour it into the pan?" We scraped out what didn't pour out and--her favorite part--hit the scrapper on the side of the pan to knock off the remaining batter. "Excellent work, Elli! All right, into the oven it goes." "Ofen hot," she warned me. "Yes, it is hot. Thank you, sweetheart." We set the timer for 45 minutes and enjoyed the smell of cinnamon and spices wafting through the house. It was better than the Glad Plug-in version. The cake (which is really more like a bread) itself was a lot better than I was thinking it might be. Daddy and Elli both agreed. Not sure this will replace Grandma's Chocolate Cake in the Family Recipe Box. But I'm glad we made it. It provided me renewed incentive to be thankful for small blessings like real-deal cake, and it afforded me a great way to give Elli a literal taste of history. Things Elli Could Do: -pour pourable ingredients -stir ingredients -smell ingredients -sift dry ingredients -"oooh" at spinning beaters -help pour batter into pan -help clean up Overall Hero Cake Ratings: Elli-friendly cooking: 5 Elli-friendly eating: 3 (raisins aren't really her thing) Simple: 5 Fast: 4 Frugal: 5

Question of the week: Did you know that President Lincoln declared the last Thursday of November to be the official Thanksgiving holiday during the Civil War?