By My birthday. Forty. FORTY. The number sounds like a door opening. The thirties are behind me — the decade of cancer and death and divorce and rebuilding. The forties are here — the decade of the house and the husband and the kitchen with the gas stove and the four children who are becoming siblings and the Set the Table program that serves twenty girls and the Folgers can on the granite counter. Forty. I am forty years old and I am standing in a kitchen that Mama would love and I am surrounded by people who love me and the food is mine and the table is set and I am forty and I am here.
Derek threw a surprise party — small, COVID-cautious, in the backyard. The four kids. Curtis. Vanessa and Brian. Claudette (she stayed after the Super Bowl; the woman has adopted my guest room as her Atlanta residence). A cake from the bakery (not homemade, because on my birthday I am baked FOR, not baking). A card signed by all twenty Set the Table girls (Destiny coordinated it from Charlotte; the card had twenty handwritten messages and I will keep it forever). And a gift: a KitchenAid mixer. Professional grade. Cherry red. The kind I've wanted for ten years and never bought because the budget always had more important things.
Derek said, "Happy birthday. Now you can make bread without kneading." I said, "The kneading is the point." He said, "I know. But now you have options." Options. At forty, I have options. A mixer that kneads for me. A man who brings coffee. A kitchen with a gas stove. Children who cook. A father downstairs. Options that I didn't have at thirty-five, when I was standing on a step stool reaching for a spoon. The step stool is retired. The woman is tall enough now. She's been tall enough for a while. She just needed to stop reaching and start standing.
This year, Derek had me baked for — and that was exactly right. But the cherry-red KitchenAid sitting on that granite counter is a promise to myself: next birthday, I’m making my own. A sponge cake is where I want to start — nothing fussy, nothing that hides behind frosting, just eggs and sugar beaten until they’re pale and proud, the way I feel at forty. The mixer will do the heavy lifting, and I will stand there, tall, and watch it work.
Sponge Cake
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 4 large eggs, room temperature
- 1 cup granulated sugar
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1 cup all-purpose flour, sifted
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and cooled
- 3 tablespoons whole milk, warmed
- Powdered sugar, for dusting
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch round cake pan and line the bottom with parchment paper. Grease the parchment and dust lightly with flour.
- Beat the eggs and sugar. In the bowl of your stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat eggs and sugar on medium-high speed for 6–8 minutes, until the mixture is thick, pale, and has tripled in volume. It should fall from the whisk in a slow ribbon. Beat in the vanilla extract.
- Fold in the dry ingredients. Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt together. Using a large spatula, gently fold the flour mixture into the egg mixture in three additions, turning the bowl as you go and taking care not to deflate the batter.
- Add the butter and milk. Drizzle the melted butter and warm milk along the side of the bowl and fold in just until incorporated — no more than 8 to 10 slow strokes.
- Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top. Bake for 28–32 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. The cake will spring back when lightly pressed.
- Cool and serve. Let the cake cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack, peel off the parchment, and cool completely. Dust generously with powdered sugar before serving. Serve as-is, or slice and layer with fresh whipped cream and berries.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 215 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 35g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 115mg