Calling Dr. Freud

I baked a chocolate birthday cake for my mother on July 22nd, her 81st birthday, which she was celebrating in Brooklyn, a slightly more happening place than Akron, where she lives.  I didn't even let the 95+ temperature stop me. (Did I mention we don't have air conditioning?)

I chose the recipe carefully, from a c. 1934 Hershey's Chocolate Cookbook I've had since forever.  I've kept track of it through a dozen moves in three states.  BUT, when I got ready to scan the recipe for my blog post, the book just disappeared.

I turned my house UPSIDE DOWN trying to find it, but all I have to show for it is a very messy house. I so wanted to share this recipe with my readers -- it's a simple, delicious, old-fashioned chocolate cake, filled with raspberry jam between the layers.  I paired it with a chocolate buttercream frosting, for my mother loves chocolate only second to her children.

And since it was her birthday, I let her choose from among my vast sprinkle collection; she selected two that I purchased at Le Bon Marche's Grand Epicierie in Paris last year.  I may have my issues with her, but I always admire her good taste.

We -- DH, DD, DS and I -- all celebrated my mother's birthday with dinner at a Park Slope restaurant, followed by dessert at home.  But instead of sharing the recipe with you, all I can share are the memories.  One day, I'm certain I'll find the cookbook and I'll hear my mother's voice:  Oh, Susie, if your head weren't attached you'd lose that too!

Bee and her birthday cake