Pineapple Cake

As soon as I walked through the door the smell penetrated my soul. If goodness and mercy could take on a tangible form this was definitely one of the ways. My great grandmother knew how to make three generations rejoice. She made pineapple cake. 

Don’t confuse this with pineapple upside down cake. No, not at all. This was love baked, stacked and iced. 

What made this cake different? Oh my. How do I describe the light, fluffy, moist yellow cake? I see her standing over the stove stirring the sugary concoction. This wasn’t the typical buttercream frosting. This wasn’t a cream cheese or brown butter frosting either. 

It lured us in and brought us together in the kitchen staring and waiting. We had to wait until it cooled. The toothpicks where stuck in random places to keep the top layer from sliding off. As it cooked the icing began to solidify around the crushed pineapples. Now that I’m a baker I know she cooked the frosting to the point right before it hit the candy stage. 

When the cake was cooled she began to slice the cake and serve us. There always seemed to be enough. Not one person was left out of the experience. 

When she was layed to rest so was the pineapple cake. We’ve never been able to recreate the goodness and mercy in the form of a cake like Momma Lillie did. I came the closest years ago. I was entertaining family at my house. With awe and reverence we sat around my dining room table and as I lifted the lid on the cake plate we all looked, smelled and remembered. Most of all we experienced her love one bite at a time. 

6 thoughts on “Pineapple Cake

  1. dia says:

    Beautiful memory. Sound yummy.

  2. kakingsbury says:

    So fun to read your post and see such a similar theme to the one I just finished. I know what you mean about it taking a long time – powerful women creating powerful memories – hard to reduce to words.

  3. What a great post and memory. I’m glad the cake is no longer retired.

  4. Lovely! Well written too! I almost smelled it.

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