White Christmas Cake

Mid-December. The season is over. The trophy is in a glass case at the school. The hype has settled. The boys have returned to being students. Daquan signed with Alabama on Wednesday — the school held a small signing ceremony in the auditorium, his grandmother Mrs. Burns sat in the front row and cried, his mother and his brothers were there, the whole team was there. Daquan put on the Bama hat. He hugged his grandmother. He hugged me. He hugged Tony. The signing was a moment. Tony has been preparing Daquan for that moment for two years. Tony was the architect. Daquan was the artist. The Bama coaches who had recruited him were on a video screen at the back of the auditorium and they applauded. Mrs. Burns came up to me afterward and said, "Coach, we did it." I said, "Mrs. Burns, you did it. We just helped." She said, "Coach, you did more than help." She hugged me. She left.

The week without practice has been strange. I have not had a December without an active season since 2002. I have, for the first time in twenty-two years, an actual evening at home in December without film to watch. I do not know what to do with myself. I have been overcooking. I made menudo Sunday again, which I do not usually do twice in three weeks, but which I made because Lisa's sister Carrie was coming over with her kids and her cousins were in town and I was looking for something to occupy my hands.

The menudo was a hit. Carrie's cousins are from Phoenix and have not had real menudo in maybe two years. They both had two bowls. The cousins' kids — five total, ages six to twelve — were not menudo customers, and I made them grilled cheese on the side, which is a Sunday lunch I have made for many young guests over the years. The grilled cheese is on sourdough with sharp cheddar and a thin layer of green chile, because if I am making a grilled cheese I am making a Carlos grilled cheese. The kids loved them. They asked for seconds. The cousins, who had had two bowls of menudo and a grilled cheese each, also asked for seconds. The kitchen was loud. The patio was loud. Lisa kept refilling the coffee. The afternoon stretched into evening.

I have been more present this week with the kids than I have been in three months. I did Sofia's morning drop-off three times. I picked up the twins from their school Wednesday and took them to soccer practice. I helped Elena with a science project that involved building a model of a cell, which is the kind of project I am much better at than helping with English homework, because models with components and assembly can be coached. I helped Marco with a math worksheet. He needed help with fractions. I sat at the kitchen table for an hour and walked him through cross-multiplication. He got it. He looked at me at one point and said, "Dad, why have you been gone for like a year." I said, "Mijo, I have not been gone. I have been at the school. The school is where my work is. I have been home for dinner most nights." He said, "But you are not, like, home." I said, "I know." He said, "It is okay. I am just glad you are home now." I said, "Marco. I will be home more in December and January. The work has changed for the offseason." He said, "Okay." He went back to fractions. I sat there for a minute longer. He is ten. He noticed. He has been noticing. The fact that he was articulate enough to say it suggests he has been thinking about it for a while.

Lisa noticed me noticing. She said in bed Wednesday night, "Carlos, the kids missed you." I said, "I know." She said, "Marco missed you the most. Marco needs the most father time." I said, "I will give him the time. The next four weeks are his." She said, "Good. He is at the age where he could go in any direction. The direction depends on you." I said, "I know." She said, "I love you, Carlos." I said, "I love you, Lisa." She fell asleep. I lay there for an hour. I thought about my own dad. I thought about being ten and how my dad worked hard and how he was sometimes gone in the way that working dads are gone, and how he made up for it on the weekends and on the trips to Las Cruces and at the dinner table. I thought about Marco. I am going to do better. I have a four-week window. The road bends. Feed your people. The game is won at the table.

The menudo was the anchor of that Sunday — it always is — but with five kids between the ages of six and twelve running through the house and Carrie’s cousins from Phoenix still at the table long after the bowls were cleared, I wanted something to mark the afternoon as a celebration, not just a meal. Lisa had picked up coconut and white chocolate earlier in the week without any plan in mind, and I had the time — genuinely, for the first time in months, I had the time — so I made a White Christmas Cake. It felt right for December, for a house that loud, for a season that had finally, mercifully, given me back my evenings.

Prep Time: 30 min | Cook Time: 35 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min (plus cooling) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 3/4 cups granulated sugar
4 large egg whites, room temperature
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 tsp almond extract
1 cup whole milk, room temperature
1 cup sweetened shredded coconut (for batter)
For the frosting:
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
4 cups powdered sugar, sifted
3–4 tbsp heavy cream
1 tsp vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
2 cups sweetened shredded coconut (for coating)
4 oz white chocolate, melted and slightly cooled (optional drizzle)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease and flour two 9-inch round cake pans, then line the bottoms with parchment paper.
Mix dry ingredients. Whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl. Set aside.
Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat softened butter and granulated sugar together on medium-high speed for 3–4 minutes until light and very fluffy. Scrape down the sides.
Add extracts and egg whites. Add vanilla and almond extracts to the butter mixture and beat to combine. Add egg whites one at a time, beating well after each addition until the batter is smooth and pale.
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 — do not overmix. Fold in 1 cup shredded coconut by hand.
Bake the layers. Divide the batter evenly between the prepared pans. Bake for 30–35 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean and the tops are just set. Cool in pans for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack and cool completely.
Make the frosting. Beat softened butter on medium speed until smooth and creamy, about 2 minutes. Add powdered sugar one cup at a time, beating on low, then increase speed. Add 3 tablespoons heavy cream, vanilla, and a pinch of salt. Beat on medium-high for 2 minutes until fluffy. Add the last tablespoon of cream if needed for spreadable consistency.
Assemble the cake. Place one cooled cake layer on a serving plate. Spread a generous layer of frosting over the top. Place the second layer on top and press gently. Apply a thin crumb coat of frosting over the entire cake, then refrigerate for 15 minutes. Apply a final thick, smooth layer of frosting over the top and sides.
Coat with coconut. Press shredded coconut generously all over the sides and top of the frosted cake, patting it in so it adheres. If using, drizzle melted white chocolate over the top in thin lines.
Slice and serve. Cut into 12 slices and serve at the table. The cake keeps covered at room temperature for up to two days, or refrigerated for four.

Nutrition (per serving)

White Christmas Cake — Something Sweet for the Table When the Season Finally Slows Down