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Almond Tea Cakes — Small Bites Baked with Someone in Mind

January fourteenth. Seventeen years. The number itself feels impossible — seventeen years is longer than Grace was alive in my adult life as her sister, longer than most of the friendships I've made since. Seventeen years of carrying her, which I don't say as a weight but as a practice. The active, daily practice of keeping someone present who is not physically here.

The lemon tart, as always. I make it with more ease now than I used to, which feels like both progress and loss. In the early years, making it was agony — every step of the process a reminder of the afternoon we spent getting it right together. Now my hands know the recipe and I move through it with something like peace, which I've come to understand is not forgetting but the opposite: knowing something so well it becomes part of you.

I told Eleanor about Grace today, even though Eleanor is three months old and understood nothing. I held her in the kitchen while the tart was in the oven and I talked about her great-aunt, who would have thought Eleanor was extraordinary, who would have made her laugh, who would have been the aunt who showed up with impractical gifts and practical wisdom in equal measure. Eleanor looked at me with those serious dark eyes and made a sound that was not quite a word but was attentive, which was enough.

Noah texted me in the morning: "Thinking of Aunt Grace today. Going to make something with lemon." He's a thousand miles away and he made a lemon something, alone in his apartment in Portland, in memory of an aunt he never met but has heard about all his life. I love him so much for that.

The memorial bench at the botanical garden, in January, with the garden bare and the grasses gone to tawny stubble: there is something beautiful about it, actually. The bench is still there. The inscription is still legible. The hawthorn tree nearby is skeletal now but in March it will bloom white and ordinary and miraculous. Grace loved early spring. She always said it was the season of not-yet, which was her favorite kind of moment. I am trying to live in the not-yet more often. She taught me that.

The lemon tart is Grace’s recipe, and it always will be — I wouldn’t give that up. But this year, with Eleanor in the house and Noah a thousand miles away making his own lemon something, I found myself wanting a second thing to bake, something I could send or share or simply make in extra batches for the people who hold pieces of her too. These almond tea cakes have that same quality the lemon tart has always had for me: they ask for your full attention, they reward patience, and they come out of the oven smelling like something that matters. Small and quietly beautiful — which feels exactly right for a day like January fourteenth.

Almond Tea Cakes

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 12

Ingredients

  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup almond flour
  • 1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
  • 3/4 cup powdered sugar, plus more for dusting
  • 2 large eggs, room temperature
  • 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
  • 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 1/4 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon fine salt
  • 1/4 cup sliced almonds, for topping

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). Lightly grease a standard 12-cup mini muffin tin or line with small paper liners.
  2. Cream butter and sugar. In a medium bowl, beat the softened butter and powdered sugar together with a hand mixer on medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 2–3 minutes.
  3. Add eggs and extracts. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the almond extract and vanilla extract until fully incorporated.
  4. Whisk dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the all-purpose flour, almond flour, baking powder, and salt.
  5. Fold together. Gently fold the dry ingredients into the wet mixture with a spatula until just combined — do not overmix.
  6. Fill the tin. Spoon the batter evenly into the prepared tin, filling each cup about 3/4 full. Press 3–4 sliced almonds onto the top of each cake.
  7. Bake. Bake for 18–20 minutes, until the tops are lightly golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
  8. Cool and dust. Let the cakes cool in the tin for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack. Dust generously with powdered sugar before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 188 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 20g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 62mg

Michelle Larson
About the cook who shared this
Michelle Larson
Week 385 of Michelle’s 30-year story · Provo, Utah
Michelle is a forty-four-year-old mom of six in Provo, Utah, a former accountant who traded spreadsheets for freezer meal prep and never looked back. She is LDS, organized to a fault, and can fill a chest freezer with sixty labeled meals in a single Sunday afternoon. She lost her second baby to SIDS and carries that grief in everything she does — including the way she feeds her family, which she does with a precision and devotion that borders on sacred.

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