Grandma Minnie's Coffee Cake

A Story about Egoism, Determination and Family Food

She never arrived without the coffee cake, wrapped flat in a used plastic bag. One was also available in her freezer at all times. No gifts for birthdays or holidays, no warm hugs, but always the coffee cake.

We all knew three things about my grandmother, Minnie S. Rappoport: she was determined, egoistic, and an excellent cook. I see her standing before the large hall mirror, a significantly obese little lady with a shock of bright white hair and blue eyes, cocking her head as she tries on hats to see which best complements the Kelly green mackintosh she has just purchased. This was not the black wool coat she wore to collect rents from occupants of the slum properties she had purchased when her husband lost his money. At home, when she wasn’t cooking, paying bills or sending elaborate congratulatory or condolence notes, she would sit in an arm chair watching television, a notebook open on the table and a dictionary at the ready. Here she recorded new words, a habit developed as a child seeking to learn perfect, educated English.

Minnie’s kitchen was memorable. One whole wall was filled with a bank of matching, attached refrigerators, probably imported from Europe—four doors in all with horizontal stainless handles.  Facing the refrigerators was a deep sink with ampIe counter space. Although there were a few cabinets under counter, her butler’s pantry was filled floor to ceiling with multiple sets of dishes and glasses as well as  pots and pans. I am always surprised when friends express nervousness about cooking, carefully measuring ingredients and apologizing in advance for what “won’t be as good as…” For my grandmother (and my mother, my daughter and me) cooking seems effortless, fun, even relaxing.

Once Aunt Lila, Minnie’s youngest, invited us for a carefully planned and delicious dinner that required significant effort. As Lila brought in her dessert, Grandma Minnie reached into her bag and brought out her coffee cake. I recall Lila running upstairs to her bedroom crying, clearly frustrated by a situation I, as a kid, didn’t understand at all. Minnie continued to sit at the Lila’s dining room table, cocking her head slightly and raising her shoulders in a “I can’t imagine what’s gotten into her” shrug.

In the early 1970’s my grandmother had a stroke which literally left her speechless. No one worried at first that cold January weekend when she couldn’t be reached by phone. Despite her considerable wealth, Minnie had a “party line which meant that a caller would get a busy signal if either party was using their device. Moreover, my grandmother often chose not to answer if she was not in the mood to talk. But eventually my mother became worried enough to ask her brother to stop by and check things out. Seymour found his mother curled in a fetal position, shivering on the bathroom floor, close to death. Doctors weren’t sure that she would live, but she did recover — everything but her ability to speak.

Because they could not find an aide able to keep up with my grandmother as she ran off down NJ streets she knew well, she was moved to my parents place in Connecticut. On a family visit I began thinking about the coffee cake—wondering if anyone would ever find the recipe. “So Grandma” I began, “I’d like to figure out how you made your famous coffee cake.” We were sitting at the dining room table. She shrugged and up-turned her hands.

“Let’s try” I began. “Were there eggs?”

She held up 2 fingers. ‘Sugar?”

One finger.

“Flour?” Two fingers.

I knew that it was called “sour cream coffee cake” and found out again through gesture that it was a cup of sour cream that I have since substituted for yogurt with great success.

When we got to the topping she held a second finger perpendicular to the first, indicating a half cup.

My grandmother left no will and a wake of painful arguments about possessions her three children never managed to sort out. I, however, am pleased with my inheritance. I make the coffee cake for all holidays, for any condolence call or tea party. And I would never bring it to a dinner party without asking.

Grandma Minnie’s Sour Cream Coffee Cake

Ingredients:

Cake

¼ lb butter (1 stick)

1 C sugar

2 eggs

2 C flour

1 t baking soda

1 t baking powder

½ t salt

1 C sour cream or yogurt

1 t vanilla

Topping

½ C brown sugar

¼ C white sugar

1 t cinnamon

1 C chopped nuts

Directions:

Set oven to 350. Butter/grease a 13” x 8” inch pan

Cream  together butter and sugar, add slightly beaten eggs and continue beating until mixture is light and fluffy.

In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking powder and soda and salt.

Have a cup of sour cream at the ready to which you have added the vanilla.

Alternating, add dry ingredients and sour cream to butter mixture,  until all combined.

Make topping mixture, chopping the nuts well. (She generally used walnuts, but recommended pecans.)

Put half of the batter—it will be VERY thick—into the pan. Sprinkle with half the nut mixture, then top with the second layer of batter and finish with remaining topping.

Bake for about 40 minutes, til toothpick comes out clean.

Notes:

I sometimes add fruit on top of the first layer of batter along with the topping—apples or rhubarb work well.

The batter does not always cover the nut mixture perfectly. Don’t worry, this is not a fussy cake!