There’s a lot going on in my life all at the moment. I’m hosting my first-ever Sunday Sauce pop-up (which, if you’re in the NY area, you should come to and you should reserve your table ASAP because time slots are already booking out which is WILD). My second book is coming out on March 14 (which is also wild). I have a birthday looming, a job I love, lots of dinners on the calendar, lots of plans Ben and I are making, and it just kind of feels like everything, everywhere, all at once.
So, as is my nature, I had a little bit of a panic this week. And it’s not because I’m not incredibly grateful for all of the love and support that so many of my readers have shown this newsletter, as well as all the amazing things that have followed its publication. (And truly, I can’t even being to tell you how incredible all of that has been. I literally wish there was a way for me to thank each and every one of you in person. It’s super overwhelming and humbling and I am now ranting but it’s true. Thank you.)
Mainly it’s because I have a really hard time sitting down and recognizing the bounty of riches I have at my feet. Instead, I get caught up in my own mind, worrying about the admin, worrying about table covers, worrying about whether or not I’ll be actually be able to feed people at such a high volume. Everything is clicking into place, and instead of basking in the glow of all of the amazing things around me, I get caught in the scary what-ifs.
Why do we do this? Why do we constantly fail to recognize the good and instead focus on the potentially bad? I’ve done this most of my life. I did it with relationships, with work, and now with my current moment in life. But I’m finally acknowledging it and trying to figure out a way to break that cycle.
Have I been successful at that? Not quite, but I’ve been trying to carve out time for myself where I can. I’ve dedicated Saturdays to cooking, and it feels good to have a schedule like that. No matter what happens, I know that Saturdays are for me to take the time I need to test and play and learn in the kitchen. It’s my solace. It’s my happy place. And I’m starting to understand why my grandmother never minded spending so much time there.
This week’s recipe reminds me so much of her. Every Sunday dinner, this lemon cake was on her table. Hers was made a little differently, with box cake mix and lemon pudding, believe it or not. But I played around with some cake recipes to make this one that’s a little more homemade. It tastes just like I remember hers to taste, and it’s best with a cup of coffee, making it as good a breakfast food as it is for dessert.
I may be worrying more than is warranted these days, but that’s okay. We all have off days. (Or weeks. Or years.) Luckily, I know I can always take a little time for myself to whip up something delicious and comforting for Ben and me and share it will all of you. It’s kind of an incredible thing, and further proof that food is something that binds us, and that brings us down to earth. I feel so lucky I get to do this with all of you. And I can’t wait to see some of you at my Sunday Dinner pop-up with Farm to People.
Spoiler: This cake makes an appearance.
INGREDIENTS
2 1/2 cups flour
1 Tbsp baking powder
4 large eggs
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1 cup neutral oil
1/2 cup water
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
The juice and zest from two large lemons
1/2 cup powdered sugar, plus 2 tablespoons water
INSTRUCTIONS
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Grease a bundt pan with butter or nonstick spray and set aside.
Sift together flour and baking powder in a small bowl. Set aside.
In a larger bowl (or the bowl of your stand mixer) beat together the eggs with the sugar until creamy. Add the oil, water, vanilla, lemon zest, and lemon juice and mix until combined. Scrape down the edges of your bowl.
Add your dry mixture to your wet mixture and beat until smooth. Scrape the bowl as you’re mixing to make sure everything is combined.
Pour your mixture into your bundt pan and bake for 45 to 50 minutes. The top will be golden brown. You can check your doneness by sticking a toothpick into the center of the cake. If it pulls clean, you’re done.
Let the cake cool in the bundt pan for at least 15 minutes before turning it out onto a wire rack and letting it cool completely.
As the cake is cooling, mix together the powdered sugar and water until a slightly watery glaze forms. Drizzle it over the cooled cake before serving and allow to set.