Well, when I reflect on the more peaceful times in my life, my grandmother, Rochelle, comes to mind. Being in her kitchen while watching her craft delicious meals out of what appeared to be thin air, was amazing to me. I decided at a young age that I would learn to do the same thing, and I did. I can make the dressing, the greens, the mac and cheese, and don’t get me started on my potato salad! But even after learning how to make all the southern staples, there was something about baking a pound cake that seemed to be out of my reach.

 

See, if you are a southern girl like me, you know that the "holy grail" of desserts for most older southern cooks isn’t apple pie or sweet potato pie, it’s pound cake! Family cookout, new birth, or funeral, the pound cake was there. And if you’re from the old school you remember your grandmother keeping a pound cake on the counter under that glass cake plate just in case, she had company.

Yes, that pound cake was a symbol of love and hospitality; that’s what I’m all about, so I knew it was time for me to master the pound cake. When the smells of vanilla, butter, and sugar envelope my kitchen, it takes me back to a simpler place and time. A time when all I needed was a slice of grandmama’s pound cake to let me know that everything was going to be alright. When life starts life-ing, taking out the time to enjoy the simple things can bring the greatest joy. Sometimes all you need is peace and pound cake.