This post has been in DRAFT format since the week before Thankgsiving. Life caught up with me and then left me in the dust. Goodness!
I had all of these grand plans to tell you about our family's traditions and how we have morphed over the years. And how the one thing that always remains is Grandma Mac's Caramel Cake. OK. Now that we fastforwarded through the mumbo jumbo... keep reading for the significance of the cake!
It is the cornerstone of our Thanksgiving. Four layers of a dense (dare I say, moist?) pound cake with a thick frosting. It weighs five pounds. Truly. In 2006, I realized that the way things were would not always be the way things are and someone from the younger generation needed to learn how to make the Caramel Cake. Unfortunately, Grandma Mac died when I was 12 or 13, so I didn't get to learn from her. There are a few things I remember about her: she sat in her chair in the kitchen window and watched the birds, she'd say "Emmmmly, you get purdier and purdier ev'ry time I see you," and she was always happy. Even though she isn't here, I like to think she helps me make the cake each year.
And now, I'll share with you...
Ta da! Just in time for Christmas!