Shortly after Nana's sister died, my dearest grandmother sent me a recipe for blueberry cake. This cake, when baked by Ruth, was something simply heavenly in her mind. But when she tried to make it, it was never "quite right." She wanted me to try.
And what better time than for her birthday-on-the-hill?
The directions, though, were terrible, and I had to throw out all of the batter after mixing the whipped egg whites in far too early and creating a disastrous mix.
And even though I blow at making cakes, always turning them into decrepit, crumbling structures, this was quite good with a bit of vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, and brandied cherries!