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Raisin Pound Cake -- The Biscuits Were Ready, So I Baked

Late April, and the semester is ending at Emory. Carrie is finishing her sophomore year with the particular grace of a woman who knows that the next year will not be a classroom but a country, and the country is the classroom, and the classroom is the life. She has earned straight A's again. She has completed her double major requirements ahead of schedule. She has done everything she intended to do and several things she did not intend, which is the measure of a good education: you learn what you came to learn and you learn what you didn't know you needed to learn, and the second category is the one that matters.

James finished his first year of law school. The finishing was not triumphant but exhausted — the exhaustion of a man who has been compressed by the law for nine months and who has emerged shaped differently, the way diamonds emerge from pressure: harder, clearer, more valuable, and slightly smaller than the thing that went in. He passed everything. He exceeded most things. He called and said, "I survived," and I said, "You did more than survive," and the more was the point.

Mama has been having what Ruth calls "traveling days" — days when she is not here, not in this kitchen, not in this house, but somewhere else, somewhere that only she can see, somewhere that is real to her even though it is invisible to us. On Thursday she said, "The biscuits are ready," to a room where no biscuits were being made, and the words were addressed to someone who was not present, and the someone was either her mother or herself at twenty-five or the ghost of a kitchen that exists only in the place where Mama lives now.

I made the biscuits. I heard "the biscuits are ready" and I made them, because the making was the answer to the statement, the way "amen" is the answer to the prayer. Mama did not eat the biscuits. But she saw them, and she nodded, and the nod was the approval of a woman who has been approving biscuits for sixty years and whose approval reflex has outlasted her ability to taste.

I didn’t make biscuits that day—not really. What I made was an answer, and the answer became a habit, and the habit became this cake. Mama’s approval reflex is still intact, that nod she gives when something comes out of the oven smelling the way a kitchen is supposed to smell, and this raisin pound cake earns it every time. Dense, sweet, shot through with raisins the way the good memories are shot through the harder ones—this is what I bake on the traveling days, when I need to feel like the kitchen still belongs to both of us.

Raisin Pound Cake

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 15 min | Total Time: 1 hr 35 min | Servings: 12

Ingredients

  • 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
  • 2 cups granulated sugar
  • 4 large eggs, room temperature
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
  • 3 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 3/4 cup whole milk
  • 1 1/2 cups raisins
  • 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour (for tossing raisins)

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prepare. Heat oven to 325°F. Grease and flour a 10-inch tube pan or a 9x5-inch loaf pan, tapping out any excess flour.
  2. Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and granulated sugar together with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium-high speed until pale and fluffy, about 4–5 minutes. Do not rush this step—the air you build here is what lifts the cake.
  3. Add eggs and extracts. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the vanilla and almond extracts.
  4. Combine dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the 3 cups of flour, baking powder, and salt.
  5. Alternate flour and milk. With the mixer on low, add the flour mixture in three additions alternating with the milk in two additions, beginning and ending with flour. Mix just until combined after each addition—do not overwork the batter.
  6. Fold in raisins. Toss the raisins with the reserved 1 tablespoon of flour (this keeps them from sinking) and fold them into the batter with a rubber spatula until evenly distributed.
  7. Bake. Pour batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top. Bake at 325°F for 70–80 minutes, until a wooden skewer inserted in the center comes out clean and the top is deep golden brown.
  8. Cool. Let the cake cool in the pan on a wire rack for 15 minutes, then turn it out and cool completely before slicing. The texture improves as it sits—it is even better the next day.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 17g | Carbs: 63g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 95mg

Naomi Blackwood
About the cook who shared this
Naomi Blackwood
Week 311 of Naomi’s 30-year story · Charleston, South Carolina
Naomi is a retired librarian from Charleston who spent thirty-one years putting books in people's hands and now spends her days putting her mother's Lowcountry recipes on paper before they're lost. She survived her husband's affair, her father's sudden death, and the long goodbye of her mother's final years. She cooks she-crab soup in a bowl that Carolyn brought from Beaufort, and in every spoonful you can taste the marsh and the memory and the grace of a woman who chose to stay and rebuild.

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