Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Tomato Sauce Cake

First and foremost, today I'd like to wish my wonderful husband, Steve, the BIGGEST and BEST birthday ever! On Sunday, we threw him a fun-filled surprise party, complete with friends, family, eats, and sweets. Happy Birthday, Honey!

It's lucky that we had the party when we did, because here I am, two days later, stuck in bed with an awful cold. After spending the past thirty hours either sleeping or watching movies on Lifetime, I dragged myself downstairs and attempted to salvage part of the day by blogging. 

So here we go--this is how I finally got around to writing about a heritage recipe for Tomato Sauce Cake belonging to my Grandma T. As a child, I grew up identifying my grandmother with many warm, joyful things: the aged, pea green futon I'd take naps on at her house in the afternoon, the thrill of watching her soybean plants clamber toward the sky, the unbeatable taste of a lunch made up of chicken noodle soup and saloon pilots with guava jelly for dessert. If there is one thing I learned from my grandma, it's the philosophy of simple goodness: that the best things in life are the little things, and that a recipe need not be frou-frou to make an impact.

That's where the Tomato Sauce Cake comes into play. Sweet, moist, and with a tender crumb, this cake imparts a delicious--albeit puzzling--flavor. Resting amongst the branches of pumpkin, spice, and carrot cakes in the baking family tree, it's no wonder that Tomato Sauce Cake is sometimes referred to as "Mystery Cake," according to the good folks at www.foodtimeline.org.

When I first discussed the recipe with my friend Frannie, she mentioned that it seemed like an old Depression-era recipe, the kind of thing home bakers would make when chocolate and cream were luxuries. The idea made sense. Grandma's recipe lists very basic ingredients, things that most housewives of her generation would keep on hand. There are no nuts, raisins, or coconut flakes to dress it up. While other similar recipes call for a can of tomato soup, my grandmother's calls for watered-down tomato sauce. Although I imagine this cake would be terrific when topped with cream cheese frosting, all I gave it was a slight dusting of powdered sugar, because Grandma didn't include a frosting recipe. Come to think of it, most of my grandmother's cakes don't have frosting.


Here's the recipe. It just lists the ingredients necessary, as well as the baking time and temperature. In conducting previous cookery research, I've discovered that many old-time recipes (we're talking colonial America here) didn't include detailed instructions for preparing dishes because it was assumed (due to traditional gender and family roles) that the reader was skilled enough to know most prep techniques and to understand the implications of a recipe. I'm guessing the concept is similar with Tomato Sauce Cake--perhaps my grandmother jotted down the recipe from a friend or neighbor, simply writing down the ingredients because the order and method of preparation were inherent to her. Whatever the reason, she deserves to be thanked for this recipe and for teaching me the value of sweet simplicity. Thanks, Grandma!!

Tomato Sauce Cake
1 C margarine or butter
2 C sugar
4 eggs
1 8-oz. can tomato sauce blended with 3/4 C water
3 C flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 T baking powder
3/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. cloves

Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.