Because Half A Pound Of Butter Makes Everything Better

Even though there are all kinds of pound cakes, Mama’s recipe is for the plain, old fashioned variety – without even a hint of almond extract (which is fine by me because I’m sort of eh about almond extract, anyway).

(However, when it comes to actual almonds, I’m a committed fan.)

So here’s the recipe for Straight Up Pound Cake.

You may rest assured that my mama doesn’t call it that.

2 sticks REAL LIVE butter (margarine is STRICTLY FORBIDDEN)
1/2 cup Crisco
3 cups sugar
5 eggs
3 cups cake flour (Swans Down is Mama’s favorite)
1 cup whole milk
1 1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp. baking powder

Now I have a little ‘splainin’ to do about my ingredients. First of all, I know Mama is going to look at this picture and say “REDUCED FAT MILK? IN A POUND CAKE? WELL, I’VE NEVER!” But this is the only milk in our house right now with the exception of several quarts of half and half. SO, my solution to this particular recipe dilemma is to use half a cup of reduced fat milk, half a cup of half and half, and in my mind that’s kind of like a cup of whole milk.

And.

Mama will not bake a cake unless she has Land O Lakes butter on hand. Which I do not. Because I bought, oh, eleventy four cartons of Publix butter when it was on sale a couple of weeks ago, and if I have an inferior pound cake product as a result of my Publix butter-buying spree, then I guess I’ll just have to live with that.

Life is filled with tough butter-buying decisions, y’all. And sometimes you just have to live with the consequences.

Also.

I’m just as sorry as I can be about those two sticks of butter being turned upside down in the picture. It’s driving me CRAZY, but there’s nothing I can do about it now. And I thought about re-staging the whole picture just to get those sticks of butter turned right side up for once and for all, but I really don’t want to have to explain to my husband why I’m re-staging a photograph of pound cake ingredients. Frankly, he thinks I’m plenty crazy as it is.

So.

First you butter and flour a tube pan; then preheat your oven to 325 degrees.

Mix your butter and Crisco until they’re good and fluffy. I was just about to the fluffy stage when I heard, “BUT HOLD ON, MAMA! I WANT TO HELP YOU!” – and lo and behold, my kitchen assistant appeared.

That’s a mighty sweet smile from someone who sounds like a seal, isn’t it?

And by the way, that’s some Food Network Chuck Wagon Cook-Off something-or-other in the background. You’ll be well-familiar with it by the end of this post because I think the chuck wagoners made it into just about every shot. Since I have mad photography skillz and all.

The next step is to add the sugar, and Mama always says to make sure you add it slowly. However, the “slowly” didn’t really happen for me today, because, um, have you ever had a four year-old help you add sugar to a standing electric mixer when there are cowboys and horses on the nearby television? Sugar is rarely added at a more rapid pace than it is under those circumstances.

And just FYI: the batter is much, much tastier than the cowboy’s expression might indicate. You’ll have to take my word for it.

Alex just wants to show y’all that he took the battery cover off of the remote. However, let me be perfectly clear that removing battery covers has absolutely nothing to do with baking a pound cake, and for that I imagine we’re all quite thankful.

Once all remotes are put away, the next step is to add your eggs one at a time, preferably while someone is cooking a steak on Food Network.

And then, if you’re Alex, you talk to the egg a little bit as it’s blended into the batter. Because you’re relational.

After the eggs are incorporated, your batter should be thick and able to hold its shape. And you’re going to want SO DESPERATELY to run your finger through the batter – you know, just to make sure that it tastes okay and all. Personally, I think it’s a very courteous and selfless gesture on your part if you do a bit of quality control at this juncture.

It’s actually quite responsible.

If you’re satisfied with the batter so far (oh, go ahead and take one more bite – just to be REALLY SURE that it’s okay), then it’s time to add the cake flour. You’ll want to add it slowly; Mama says that cakes turn out better if you incorporate the flour on a low speed and don’t overwork the batter.

And if you’re wondering why this last picture is such poor quality, it’s because I was adding flour to a mixing bowl with my left hand while holding a camera with my right hand and simultaneously asking a four year-old to PLEASE KEEP HIS HANDS OUT OF THE FLOUR BECAUSE MAMA IS TRYING TO TAKE A PICTURE FOR THE BLOG.

It was a tender mother/child moment.

So tender, in fact, that I didn’t get a picture of the next step: pouring the milk in the mixing bowl. I was just completely overcome by the sweetness of that whole flour-adding experience. Such a precious memory. I’m sure you understand.

But we regrouped, oh yes we did. Alex added vanilla extract with his left hand EVEN THOUGH HE’S RIGHT-HANDED, and clearly, MY GOODNESS, he’s a genius.

Meanwhile, on Food Network, someone is placing coals around a cast iron pot.

For some reason it’s very important to me that we’re all acknowledging what’s happening on the TV.

This is no different than, well, ever.

The last thing you do before you pour the batter in the tube pan is to stir in the baking powder. Mama INSISTS on stirring in the baking powder WITH A FORK.

Remember: stir in the baking powder WITH A FORK. If you try to be all cool and use a spoon instead, I suspect the cake batter will catch on fire.

This is only a hunch.

And then, provided that you’re not having to extinguish batter-y flames as a result of your devil-may-care-spoon-using-bravado, you pour the batter in the (BUTTERED! AND FLOURED!) tube pan. There’s no need to smooth out the batter or try to get rid of air bubbles; the batter is so thick that everything will even out once the cake is in the oven.

And just so you know: I’m totally on to Alex’s end game. He may have been all “Mama, I want to help you” and “Mama, you’re the best cooker cake in the whole wide world,” but make no mistake – he is a boy whose primary cake-baking objective was to lick the bowl.

I sort of respect that, actually.

Anyway, bake your cake for one hour and fifteen minutes at 325. It may need to bake a little longer depending on your oven; mine took about an hour and a half.

But the end result is absolutely worth the wait.