Grilled Pound Cake with Berries

Last week of school. My thirty-fourth year at Hodge Elementary, and something is different this time. I've been thinking — not deciding, just thinking — about retirement. Earl is gone. The knees are worse than ever. The mornings at four-thirty are harder without someone to come home to, because the tiredness doesn't have a landing pad anymore. I used to come home exhausted and Earl would be in his chair and I'd sit on the couch and put my feet up and he'd say, "Long day?" and I'd say, "They're all long, baby. That's the point." And the tiredness was bearable because it had a witness.

Now I come home to a dark house. The recliner is empty. The evening is long and quiet and mine alone, and the tiredness has nowhere to land. I'm not complaining, baby. I'm just describing what it is. Grief doesn't go away. It moves to different rooms.

The "greatest hits" menu this year: chicken nuggets, pizza, mac and cheese, tacos. Same as last year. The children's tastes are democratic and consistent. They know what they like. I respect that. I gave extra portions to the ones who needed it — I always do, I always will — and on the last day, a fifth-grader named Destiny came through the line and said, "Miss Dot, I'm going to middle school next year. They won't have you." I said, "No, sugar, they won't. But I'll still be here when you come back to visit." She hugged me. A ten-year-old hugged me over the lunch counter. I held it together because I am a professional. I fell apart in the car.

Summer stretches ahead. No Earl, no school, just me and the garden and the marsh and the long Savannah days. Denise will come every day. Kayla will come when she can. The house will be quiet. I will cook. I will set two plates. I will eat alone and pretend I'm not.

Made shrimp and corn on the grill tonight — first grill of the summer. I haven't used the grill since Earl died because it was his domain. But I lit it myself and I stood there with the tongs and the smoke rising and I cooked the shrimp and the corn and I thought: I can do this. I can do all of this. I just don't want to do it alone.

Now go on and feed somebody.

I kept the grill going after the shrimp and corn were done. I don’t know why — maybe I just wasn’t ready to put out the fire I’d finally lit myself. So I sliced what was left of the pound cake from the freezer, laid it right on those grates, and let it get golden and warm with a little char on the edges the way Earl always liked. Topped it with whatever berries I had. It wasn’t fancy. It was exactly right.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 6 min | Total Time: 16 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

6 slices pound cake (about 1 inch thick)
2 tablespoons butter, melted
1 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
1/2 cup fresh blueberries
1/2 cup fresh raspberries
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream, for serving

Instructions

Prepare the berries. In a small bowl, combine strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries with sugar and lemon juice. Stir gently and let sit at room temperature for at least 10 minutes so the fruit releases its juices.
Heat the grill. Preheat grill to medium heat, about 375°F. Clean grates well and lightly oil them to prevent sticking.
Brush the cake. Brush both sides of each pound cake slice with melted butter.
Grill the cake. Place cake slices directly on the grill grates. Grill for 2—3 minutes per side, until golden grill marks appear and the edges begin to crisp. Watch carefully — pound cake can go from toasted to burnt quickly.
Serve warm. Transfer grilled slices to plates. Spoon the macerated berries over each slice, letting the juices soak into the warm cake. Top with whipped cream or a scoop of vanilla ice cream if desired. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Grilled Pound Cake with Berries — The First Fire I Lit Myself