I baked an angel food cake yesterday but left the cleanup of the cake pan to today. I left it to soak and scrubbed it clean this morning. It’s an odd pan, two pieces, one like a deep cake pan but with the bottom cut out, the other an insert with a hollow cone standing in the middle.
As I was almost elbow deep in hot water, scrubbing, I paused to think about how long I’d had this pan. How many times I had packed and unpacked this pan, each time making the decision to keep it, even though it often sat in the cupboard, unused for stretches of time.
Angel food was the cake of choice for all the birthdays when I was growing up. Angel food cake with chocolate icing and ice cream on the side. I don’t remember my Mom ever making a cake from scratch, as she really didn’t like baking. Angel food cake from a mix is so easy, just add water and beat it for a minute. Mom’s kind of baking. (Sorry Mom, love you ❤️ But your talents lay elsewhere).
I suppose I followed the tradition and bought my own pan when I was married. I have to figure I’ve had this pan for forty years.
Forty years. That beat up old pan, awkward to store, awkward to pack and awkward to clean. I find myself teary eyed, remembering family, and all those occasions celebrated year after year with Angel food cake. Sometimes it’s the simple things that mean the most.
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