New Year's. Kevin and I stayed up until midnight because the kids wanted to watch the ball drop, which means we all sat in the living room eating popcorn and cheese and crackers until eleven-forty-five, at which point Jack fell asleep on the couch, Emma announced the countdown thirty seconds early, and Noah watched the whole thing with the detached observation of a scientist studying human behavior. Kevin and I kissed at midnight. It was brief and tasted like cheddar, which is not romantic but is honest.
I made black-eyed peas on New Year's Day because Marlene always made black-eyed peas on New Year's Day for luck. This is not an Iowa tradition — it's a Southern tradition — but Mom picked it up from a church cookbook in 1985 and never stopped, and now it's a Weber tradition, which is how all traditions start: someone does something once and then refuses to stop. The black-eyed peas are simmered with ham hock, onion, garlic, and a bay leaf until they're soft and the broth is smoky. Served with cornbread. Jiffy. Always Jiffy.
I don't believe black-eyed peas bring luck. I believe in planting and harvesting and feeding and hoping, which is close enough to luck for a farmer's daughter. But I make them anyway because Mom makes them and stopping would be a kind of giving up, and I have already given up the farm and the kitchen and the four hundred acres and I am not giving up the black-eyed peas too.
January in Iowa is the quietest month. The fields are frozen. The sky is white. The world is hibernating. I drive to work in the dark and come home in the dark and the only color in the landscape is the Christmas lights that people haven't taken down yet, which in our neighborhood means most people, because Iowans leave their Christmas lights up until February out of a combination of optimism and laziness.
I'm already thinking about spring. About Jack's garden expansion — he wants tomatoes this year. About whether to try growing sweet corn in the backyard, which is almost certainly too small but which I want to try because growing corn is what Webers do and I have not yet accepted that my corn-growing days are over. Kevin said the neighbors would think we're crazy. I said the neighbors have a trampoline and a political yard sign from two elections ago. Glass houses, Kevin. Glass houses.
The black-eyed peas are the tradition I inherited. The Texas Sheet Cake is the one I’m starting. After a New Year’s Eve that ended in cheddar crackers and a child asleep before midnight, and a New Year’s Day that smelled like ham hock and cornbread and the particular quiet of a frozen Iowa January, I wanted something sweet — something as unapologetically Southern as the peas on the stove, and just as easy to make in bulk for a family that never seems to shrink. Mom got her black-eyed peas from a church cookbook; I found this cake the same way. That’s tradition enough for me.
Texas Sheet Cake
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 24
Ingredients
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 2 cups granulated sugar
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1/2 tsp salt
- 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
- 1 cup water
- 1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
- 2 large eggs, lightly beaten
- 1/2 cup sour cream
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- For the frosting:
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
- 1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
- 6 tbsp whole milk
- 4 cups powdered sugar, sifted
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 1 cup chopped pecans (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat and prepare. Preheat oven to 375°F. Grease a 15x10-inch rimmed sheet pan (jelly roll pan) and set aside.
- Mix dry ingredients. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt.
- Make the chocolate mixture. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine the butter, water, and cocoa powder. Stir and bring to a boil, then remove from heat immediately.
- Combine wet and dry. Pour the hot cocoa mixture over the flour mixture and stir until mostly combined. Add the eggs, sour cream, and vanilla and mix until smooth and fully incorporated.
- Bake. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and spread evenly. Bake for 18—20 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the edges are just set.
- Make the frosting. About 5 minutes before the cake comes out of the oven, melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in the cocoa powder and milk and bring to a gentle boil. Remove from heat and whisk in the powdered sugar and vanilla until smooth.
- Frost immediately. As soon as the cake comes out of the oven, pour the warm frosting over the hot cake and spread evenly with a spatula. Scatter pecans over the top if using. The frosting will set as it cools into a glossy, fudgy layer.
- Cool and slice. Allow the cake to cool in the pan for at least 30 minutes before cutting into squares and serving.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 44g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 165mg