I’ve got Mother Lovett on the brain.
I made her orange cake for Easter, though by her standards I did everything wrong: I served it as a layer cake instead of in a 9 x 13 pan, I added cream cheese to the frosting, I forgot to fold the coconut into the batter, and I even zested the oranges myself instead of forcing my husband to scrape every last bit of rind from the fruit. Still, it was worth it.
It’s hard to believe today marks two years since we said our goodbyes to her. Sometimes it feels like yesterday I was in her kitchen, gulping overly sweet iced tea and sneaking Snickers bars from the cupboard beneath the bar. I reset her kitchen timer so she wouldn’t burn yet another batch of chocolate chip cookies and tossed the aluminum foil that had wrapped her baking tins since 2002 — someone had to do it.
She was stubborn, proud, brave and endlessly entertaining. We once cut her birthday cake in half at her 88th birthday and she was too short to notice. Bits of her life are scattered across this blog: she married brothers, lived decades with four blockages in three arteries and survived on buttered crackers and lard-rich pie crusts. She hoarded condiments like it was a symptom of the Depression, which gave us stories that started with a laugh and ended with tears — often over a long-expired bottle of soy sauce. She rolled down the grassy bank in front of her house while picking weeds and frequently mixed up names; after one long visit she was astonished to learn I wasn’t my cousin Lacy.
She had a knack for saying the loud, blunt thing at the least expected moment. On a grocery trip she once asked, at the top of her lungs, “Eh… where are the maxi-pads without wings?!” Her mix-ups extended to language, too. Grumpily she complained one day that she hadn’t gotten to watch “her stories” because “Omaha was on all afternoon.” When asked what Omaha was, she answered, “You know! Omaha. The guy that’s going to be our president.”
That same gift for malapropisms lives on in the family. My mom spent ten minutes last fall raving about “the best tai chi she had ever tasted,” only to be gently corrected that she meant chai tea.
But the important thing here is the cake. Juicy oranges, a tender yellow crumb, shredded coconut folded into the batter, and a bright orange frosting finished with a heavy dusting of coconut — it’s a version of a classic that’s impossible not to love.
Juicy Orange Cake
Makes two 8-inch layer cakes
Ingredients:
2 1/2 cups cake flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups sugar
3 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3/4 cup orange juice (freshly squeezed preferred)
1/4 cup orange zest
2–3 tablespoons milk, if needed
1 cup shredded coconut
Zest and juice from 10–12 oranges (use as needed for cake and frosting)
Instructions:
Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). Zest and juice the oranges first so you have everything ready. Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt; set aside. In the bowl of an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, about 2–3 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, then add the vanilla. With the mixer on low, add half of the dry ingredients and mix just to combine. Pour in the orange juice, then add the remaining dry ingredients. Stir in the orange zest and fold in the shredded coconut until evenly distributed. If the batter seems too thick, add 1–2 tablespoons of milk or more orange juice until you reach a smooth cake-batter consistency.
Divide the batter between two 8-inch cake pans that have been buttered and floured. Bake 25–30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean and the cakes are set. Allow the cakes to cool completely before frosting. Note: Cakes with shredded coconut can be slightly crumbly; handle gently when assembling.
Orange Frosting
Ingredients:
2 1/2 sticks butter, softened
1 8-ounce block cream cheese, softened
4 1/2–5 cups powdered sugar, depending on desired consistency
2–3 tablespoons orange juice
2 tablespoons (or more) orange zest
2–3 cups shredded coconut for coating
Instructions:
Cream the butter and cream cheese together until smooth. With the mixer on low, add the powdered sugar a half cup at a time, increasing speed slightly as the sugar incorporates. Add the orange juice and zest, tasting as you go; add more juice if you need a softer consistency. Frost the cooled cakes as desired and press shredded coconut onto the sides and top to finish.
I’m still full from yesterday.