I love to bake. Trying out a new recipe and nailing it the first time around gets me excited. I feel accomplished. Then there's the feeling I get when I pull out an old recipe, one I've made hundreds of times, and execute it successfully. That feeling, I can't really put it into words.
I’m a fan of pound cake. It’s not my favorite cake, but I do enjoy it. I like it for the memories it stirs up. Growing up, I spent most of my summers up in a city north of Chicago called Waukegan. I stayed in a house less than a mile from Lake Michigan. It was the house where my mom grew up and where my grandparents still lived. The summer Sundays of my childhood was marked by Sunday School, Church, a hearty dinner prepared by my grandma, followed by pound cake. After my grandmother passed, the family spent a week cleaning out the house. I have a love of…