The Confectionary Mystery

 The Confectionary Mystery

WPA Cake

1 ½ cups of sugar

½ cup of shortening

½ cup of cocoa

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon of baking soda

2 eggs

1 teaspoon baking power

3 cups flour

1 cup sour milk

1 cup boiling coffee

2 teaspoons vanilla

The ingredients appear to be harmless enough. There is nothing that jumps out at me but this cake has caused me more consternation than any other cake I have ever made from “scratch”. I have always considered myself a fairly good cook and baker; that is until my husband made one of these cakes. We were visiting his sister and I had no idea he could bake or cook; then she asked him to make a WPA cake. Being the big brother he started gathering the ingredients he needed. He did this from memory no less. I had never had a WPA cake but I paid attention to the ingredients as they disappeared into the mixing bowl. It didn’t seem that complicated. He put it in the oven and forty minutes later with drew out a cake that rose at least six inches above the top of the cake pan. This intrigued me; I am a box cake person myself. The cake was very moist but I wanted to know how it rose to over six inches above the top. This began my Machiavellian Schemes to learn how to make that damn cake rise.

Over thirty nine years of marriage the WPA has been the bane of my existence! I have watched my husband make that cake so many times his rises; mine sits. What is wrong with this scenario? It has been over forty years since he made the first one.

Machiavelli and I have one thing in common. I have tried every imaginable combination following the recipe. I have mixed the batter until it is thick. I have doubled the baking powder. You could have rolled that cake down the street. It was indestructible. My husband thought that was funny. I was embarrassed to say the least but I continued on my quest. Over the years I have read the recipe over and over there is nothing that really stands out other than somehow; some day I will figure out why my husband’s cake rises higher.

I remember one WPA cake I made that was a disaster from the moment I began until the moment I finished it. My husband’s Mom taught him to bake and cook, she was a really good cook. She gave a copy of the WPA cake to my husband. He memorized it and I have no idea what he did with it. I had hoped it would have the missing whatever. We were expecting his parents for dinner, that should have been my first clue that the WPA was going to be true fiasco. I followed the directions exactly or so I thought. I mixed all the ingredients, thinking I had finally solved the mystery until it was time to take it out of the oven, it looked like a square matzo ball. It had fallen, his parents were on their way. That cake and I were going to square off one of these days. Mother and Father arrived. Dinner was good but I had no idea how I could serve the WPA cake. I made a face at my husband as he followed me into the kitchen.

“So where is the WPA cake?”

“I, well I hid it. It is as flat as a matzo ball. I can’t serve it; I can’t even cut it.”

“I should have made it. Sorry honey. I could go get a cake at the store, it wouldn’t take that

long.”

“That would work but how do we hide the Matzo ball?”

“I don’t know tell Mother it is a new kind of cake. I’ll be back before she gets suspicious.” Stall, is the word that comes to mind. I stalled, I brought out coffee, I offered more wine, anything I could think of. My husband made it back from the store in less than ten minutes, it must have been some sort of land record. He snuck in the back door, closing it ever so gently. He motioned me into the kitchen:

“I got a chocolate cake that looks sort of like a WPA cake. Next time I will make it.”

“Fine you do that!.”

The rest of the evening went smoothly. My in-laws left shortly after nine in the evening:

“My mother-in-law took me aside:

I would like to say that WPA cake was very good.”

You could have knocked me over with a feather. After they left my husband told me:

“I really am glad she did not ask to see the cake. Now would you tell me where you

put the real cake.”

I walked over to the refrigerator, over to the side that was next to the cabinet and rolled it out. My husband stood there with an astonished look on his face:

“How did you manage this? I mean it is flat as a pancake?

“It wasn’t easy believe me.”

However that did not mean I was going to give up trying to solve this confectionary mystery. My next attempt sent my husband into hysterics. I thought maybe it would be more prudent to try adding an extra egg, boiling coffee and baking powder. I was disparate I should have known this idea was worse than the last one. This WPA Cake was a tad to moist. Actually it looked like chocolate soup. All my husband could manage:

“Wow, are we having chocolate soup for supper?”

I kept my cool:

“Yes, dear I hope you enjoy it.”

I knew I certainly was not going to enjoy chocolate soup that was supposed to be a cake! My last attempt was six months ago. I did get the fool cake to rise about an inch above the cake pan; for me that is pretty good all things considered.

I think my husband is planning to take the mystery ingredient to his grave; me I will continue in my Machivellian way to find out what that damn ingredient is. Who knows someday maybe my husband will slip and disclose what he does differently until then; I will keep on trying.