By February 2027. Spring practice begins next month. This is the preparation for what might be the most important season of my career in a different sense than championships: the season after six titles, the season where the program must prove it belongs to the culture and not to the coach. The question I ask myself every January is: if I left tomorrow, how long would this standard hold? The answer has been getting longer each year. I want it to be permanent before I consider that I might leave someday.
Diego is a senior in college. He had his best season yet — 1,400 yards, twelve touchdowns, a conference player of the year award. He will be drafted. I don't say this as a father; I say it as someone who has been evaluating backs for twenty-four years. He will be drafted. The question is where and when, and that question belongs to April and to him and to the process he's been preparing for. What he asks of me in this period is exactly what I asked of him: my honest assessment when he wants it and my silence when he doesn't. I'm trying to provide both in the right proportions.
Ruben's birthday. He would have been forty-eight. I made the tres leches at midnight. I talked to him about Diego going to the league — I know he'd have been at every game in a jersey with Diego's number, every game, loudly, arriving early and staying late and texting me during every play. I know this the way I know all of the things Ruben didn't get to do. I carry the list the way you carry anything you're given to carry. With both hands. On purpose.
I’ve made tres leches on Ruben’s birthday for years, but the one night I ran out of the right milk, I found myself staring at a container of yogurt and a bag of chocolate chips at half past midnight — and I made this instead. It was richer than I expected, dense in the way grief can be, and I ate a slice standing at the counter talking to him the way I always do. Some recipes find you at the right moment, and this one did. Now I make it on rotation, because Ruben would have eaten three pieces and asked if there was more.
Fudgy Chocolate Chip Yogurt Cake
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 40 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar
- 1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 1 cup plain whole-milk yogurt
- 1/3 cup vegetable oil
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips, divided
Instructions
- Preheat and prepare. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9-inch round cake pan and line the bottom with parchment paper.
- Combine dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt until evenly blended.
- Mix wet ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the granulated sugar, brown sugar, eggs, yogurt, vegetable oil, and vanilla extract until smooth and well combined.
- Bring it together. Pour the wet mixture into the dry ingredients and stir gently until just combined — do not overmix. Fold in 3/4 cup of the chocolate chips.
- Fill and top. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and spread evenly. Scatter the remaining 1/4 cup chocolate chips over the top.
- Bake. Bake for 38–42 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs. The top should be set and slightly domed.
- Cool and serve. Let the cake cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack. Serve warm or at room temperature, dusted lightly with powdered sugar if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 285 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 175mg