I’ve been itching to share something with you. A couple of things, actually.
One, this recipe for a one bowl chocolate cake is really great. It means a lot to me. This is the childhood cake I mentioned when speaking about that lovely almond olive oil cake. I was obsessed with it as a child. It was my thing. And I’m finally sharing it with you, which is exciting in itself.
Two, this recipe was featured on Food 52, a site I’ve been fangirling over for yonkers. It means a lot to me. I’m super keen to share more Heirloom Recipes with you, as, let’s be honest, food + family + family history + home are all the things that make me happy, that make me want to cook and write.
Here is the link to my post on Food 52 and a few more pictures from the day I made this beloved cake. Quite befittingly, I spent the day at my parents’ house, my childhood home. Wearing my most favourite apron and pulling out all of mum’s prettiest bowls, I sifted and folded, following the instructions in this much cherished cookbook. Ben took photographs and my grandparents visited for an afternoon slice, my family reaping the benefits of my eagerness to share. This is why I blog. I just want to share. To cook and write about it. I was so happy. With my one bowl chocolate cake, my heirloom recipe and my family.
I feel my posts have been a bit pensive of late, a little moody. There has been so much greatness happening in my life, but greatness is often packaged with…well, lots of other things. My loved ones have lost dear, dear loved ones, which is always fucked. There’s been a few health things, too. Nothing drastic in the scheme of things but enough to make us stop and enough to make us frustrated. And with that comes a little stress on top of what can, at times, be a lot of stress as two self-employed folk. Plus we are moving (great!) so our house looks like a bomb has hit it (less great). I don’t function well when I can’t step through my house without knocking over piles of…something (why do I have so much stuff?) But I don’t have time to be super organised as we are both juggling a few really exciting opportunities. There’s much much greatness, friends, but, as I said, it’s a package. Thank goodness for this space to ramble and my kitchen, even if I cannot find my plates in amongst the boxes. My cooking, this blog, these words tend to reflect how I feel when I’m most relaxed. Energetic and challenging days encourage more sincere rest than usual, and it is during these restful times, mug of coffee by my side and woollen blanket on my lap, that these words come. Thank you for joining me for the ride. And now, cake.
P.S. it was years since I had made this recipe and man, the cake is just as good as I recall. I thought I was so good at baking when I was younger, beating this beauty up whenever I felt like creating and sharing and excelling in the chocolate department. But maybe it was the recipe. Maybe. Probably. It doesn’t matter. Either way, it means a lot to me.
This cake. My family. Thankful and full.