Slow Cooker Strawberry Soda Cake

Recovery week. Rosetta's kitchen. The grilled chicken, the steamed vegetables, the refilling. This year the refilling included a letter from the second scholarship recipient — a young man named Terrell Davis from North Memphis, twenty years old, sickle cell, starting at Tennessee State University in the fall to study biology. He wants to be a researcher. He wants to find the cure. He is the future that Denise didn't get, and his future is funded by her name, and the circle from grief to purpose to scholarship to cure is almost complete, and I am close enough to see the finish line even if I won't cross it in my lifetime.

I read Terrell's letter at the kitchen table and cried the way I cried over Kesha's letter — freely, without shame, because these tears are not grief tears, they're purpose tears, they're the tears of a man who started a fundraiser because he didn't know what else to do with his pain and the doing has produced something real: two young people in college, carrying Denise's name, building futures from her memory.

Rosetta sat with me and we didn't say anything, because what do you say? What words are adequate for the moment when grief becomes generative, when the worst thing that happened to you produces the best thing that happens to someone else? There are no words. There is only the sitting, the holding, the quiet recognition that love doesn't die when the person dies. Love finds new containers. Love, like smoke, fills whatever space is available.

Rosetta made this cake that evening after we finally stopped sitting in the silence — not because either of us asked for dessert, but because her hands needed something to do, and mine needed something to hold. There’s a particular mercy in a slow cooker cake: you put the simple things together, you close the lid, and you let time do what time does. That’s about all any of us can do with grief. Terrell’s letter was folded on the table when we finally cut into it, and the sweetness felt earned in a way I’m not sure I have the words for.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 2 hrs 30 min | Total Time: 2 hrs 40 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 box (15.25 oz) strawberry cake mix
1 can (12 oz) strawberry soda (such as Strawberry Fanta or Crush)
2 large eggs
1/3 cup vegetable oil
1 cup fresh or frozen strawberries, hulled and halved
Cooking spray
Powdered sugar, for dusting (optional)
Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Prepare the slow cooker. Lightly coat the inside of a 6-quart slow cooker with cooking spray. Line the bottom with a sheet of parchment paper cut to fit, then spray the parchment as well.
Mix the batter. In a large bowl, combine the strawberry cake mix, strawberry soda, eggs, and vegetable oil. Stir until the batter is smooth and well combined, about 2 minutes. Gently fold in the halved strawberries.
Fill the slow cooker. Pour the batter into the prepared slow cooker and spread evenly with a spatula.
Cook low and slow. Place a double layer of paper towels under the lid (this absorbs condensation and keeps the top from getting soggy). Cook on HIGH for 2 hours to 2 hours 30 minutes, until the center is set and a toothpick inserted near the middle comes out clean. Do not lift the lid during the first 2 hours.
Cool before serving. Turn off the slow cooker and let the cake rest with the lid slightly ajar for 15 minutes. Run a spatula around the edges, then carefully lift the parchment to transfer the cake to a cooling rack or serving plate.
Finish and serve. Dust with powdered sugar if desired. Serve warm or at room temperature with whipped cream or a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow Cooker Strawberry Soda Cake — Something Sweet for the Tears That Don’t Need Explaining