Having the lockdown cake and eating it, too

It was our wedding anniversary and we were under lockdown, so the question was: How do we have the quintessential cake? A few calls to neighbourhood bakers didn’t work as they’d been asked to bake only essential items such as bread. Finally, I accepted the challenge and decided to bake a cake myself.

As I tried to recall the recipe, flashes from childhood came to mind. Ma would bake a cake for all birthdays in the family, for me and my three siblings, always. The preparation would be an elaborate ceremony and would start at 10pm the previous night after dinner.

Everyone except the person whose birthday it was would participate in the process. We would all be helping Ma mix the flour, baking powder, baking soda, dry fruits and essence plus eggs in a bowl. The act of mixing the ingredients was so exciting that we’d fight for a chance.

The historic electric oven, which looked like a mini UFO, would be taken down from the top shelf and cleaned meticulously. The cake would start to bake. The heavenly fragrance that wafted in the house would double our excitement. The act of putting a knitting needle through a hole in the oven’s lid, to check whether the cake was ready or not, was watched with anticipation. Extra toppings with cream, chocolate or even jam was necessary. Once this was done, the cake was kept back in the oven to be cut the next day. The tradition was to cut it the first thing in the morning and have a slice with a cup of hot tea.

Since I had forgotten the recipe, I decided to scout the web.

The moment I typed cake recipe, a million searches and thousands of videos popped up with titles such as: Eggless cake in 10 minutes, cake in a cooker, how to make cake like the one you get at the baker’s, spongy cake, and what not! After wasting an hour trying to learn from various sources, celebrity chefs to aunty cooks, I decided to stick to the one that said a cake could be made in the microwave in 10 minutes.

After putting the batter in the oven, I kept peeping through the glass anxiously as if a new compound was being developed that would help rid mankind of Covid-19. Suddenly, the batter started overflowing. Maybe the chef aunty in the video had prescribed a teaspoon of baking soda and I had used a tablespoon. I hit pause and skimmed off some of the top layer.

Finally, something got baked. I was not sure if it could be termed a cake though. I kept it out for some time to cool and found that it had magically turned into a hard, round slab. I presented it to my wife. It actually took both of us to cut the cake. The taste seemed good, at least to me. My wife appreciated my efforts. It might not be the best cake she’d ever had but it did have two exclusive ingredients, of love and care.

THE ELECTRIC OVEN, WHICH LOOKED LIKE A MINI UFO, WOULD BE TAKEN DOWN FROM THE TOP SHELF AND CLEANED METICULOUSLY