My first entry will be this:
For more years than my fragile memory can count Cebah made me an angel food cake for my birthday. Each year, just for me.
I called it cotton cake when I was a wee one. It fascinated me ...possibly my first food revelation.
Cebah would get out the worn red handled egg beater, then break and separate the eggs...dipping out little flecks of yellow with the egg shell. (She rarely had a speck in her egg whites.) She could turn the
beaters so fast my eyes could not follow~~~~~ a sleight of hand.
Suddenly, there was a velvety, thick, white cotton cloud~~~~~~
I always believed Cebah was magic, what more proof did I need?
She would carefully add the sugar, beating and stirring....and then the sifted flour. More little billows of cottony clouds. Slowly, she would have the perfect batter and pour it in the angel food cake pan. At last, I could touch it, she would let me smooth the top just before it went into the woodstove oven. The cake, coveted by all in our county, was a revelation. The taste, as fine as any cloud, never matched the wonder and amazement of seeing her make that magic cotton cloud.