Smash Cake — Because My Grandson Deserves a Grandmother Who Bakes

Autumn deepening. The trees are bare now, the leaves on the ground, the sky the particular shade of gray that Hartford reserves for late October — not angry gray, not stormy gray, but tired gray, the gray of a sky that is getting ready for November and the long sleep of winter. I am not ready for November. I am never ready for November. But November comes whether I am ready or not, and the kitchen will be ready even when I am not, because the kitchen is always ready. That is its job. That is my job. Readiness.

Lucas is six months old. He is eating solid foods now — not just my calabaza puree but also mashed batata, pureed platano, and a combination of rice and chicken broth that is essentially baby arroz con pollo and which I invented specifically for him because my grandson is not going to grow up on jar food when he has a grandmother with a nutrition degree and a blender and opinions. Strong opinions. Loud opinions. Opinions that I express to Jenny at every meal, which she receives with the grace of a woman who has been married to a Delgado for eleven months and has learned that opinions are how we say I love you.

Mami is having more foggy days. She forgot what day it was on Tuesday. She asked me where Miguel was — Miguel Senior, my father, dead since 2010 — and I said, He is at work, Mami, the way I always say it, the answer that keeps the world stable for her, the answer that does not break. I will say this answer as many times as she asks. I will say it a thousand times. I will say it until the question stops, and when the question stops I will miss it, because the question means she remembers him, and remembering him means the past is alive in her, and the past being alive means she is alive, and alive is the word, mi amor. Alive is the only word.

Eduardo noticed the foggy days. He sat with me in the kitchen after Mami left and he said, Carmen, she is getting worse. I said, I know. He said, What do we do? I said, We feed her. We hold her. We answer her questions. We say Miguel is at work and the pernil needs more garlic and Sofia is doing well in school. We keep the world stable. We keep the food hot. We do what we have always done. He held my hand. He said nothing. The nothing was right. The nothing was perfect. The nothing was Eduardo at his most Eduardo, saying everything by holding my hand and being steady while the woman I love most in the world slowly loses the names for things.

Lucas is six months old now, and already I am planning ahead — because that is what grandmothers do, and that is what Delgados do, and I am both. When he turns one, there will be a smash cake. It will not come from a box. It will not come from a bakery that does not know his name. It will come from this kitchen, from these hands, and it will be soft enough for a baby who is just learning what sweetness means. I make it now in my head, the way I have always made things first in my head, and then I make it with my hands, and then I put it in front of the person I love and I watch them eat it, and that — that is the whole point of everything.

Smash Cake

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 1 cup whole wheat flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
• 2 eggs
• 1/3 cup unsweetened applesauce
• 1/4 cup coconut oil, melted
• 1/4 cup whole milk
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 2 tablespoons pure maple syrup (optional, for slightly older babies)
• For the frosting: 8 oz cream cheese, softened
• 1/2 cup plain whole-milk Greek yogurt
• 2 tablespoons maple syrup
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

1. Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Lightly grease two 6-inch round cake pans with coconut oil and line the bottoms with parchment paper.
2. Mix dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the whole wheat flour, baking powder, and cinnamon until combined.
3. Mix wet ingredients. In a separate large bowl, whisk together the eggs, applesauce, melted coconut oil, milk, vanilla, and maple syrup (if using) until smooth and well blended.
4. Combine. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir gently until just combined — do not overmix. The batter will be thick.
5. Bake. Divide the batter evenly between the two prepared pans. Bake for 22–25 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the tops are lightly golden.
6. Cool completely. Let the cakes cool in the pans for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack and cool completely before frosting. Do not frost a warm cake.
7. Make the frosting. Beat the softened cream cheese with a hand mixer until fluffy. Add the Greek yogurt, maple syrup, and vanilla, and beat until smooth and spreadable.
8. Assemble. Place one cake layer on a small cake board or plate. Spread a generous layer of frosting on top. Place the second layer on top and frost the top and sides with the remaining cream cheese frosting.
9. Serve. Place in front of one very small, very important person. Step back. Let them destroy it completely. Take photographs. Cry a little. This is the whole point.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 29g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 185mg