Birthday Trauma – Chocolate Chip Cake

My early childhood was mostly lacking in trauma, but there is one glaring example of distress I suffered about which I am reminded annually in the heat of midsummer. As a young child, I rarely had a birthday party. It was pain and suffering that left a permanent scar; I’m not sure I have recovered to this day.

I’d like to blame my parents, but in all honesty, I don’t think I can. Being born in mid-August (well, that’s sort of their fault), most of my friends had vanished with their families to the beach, mountains, or lake. There was no one in town. A party would have been sparsely populated and pitiful, making me feel like I had few friends who cared. As a result, perhaps after one or two feeble attempts, parties were few and far between. While I may have been mad at my parents, they could have been helping by saving me from the embarrassment of such a poorly attended event.

I have a vague memory of my mother and father trying to assuage my distress on one occasion by holding a gathering for my friends in September after school had started and classmates had returned. But I’m not sure if this reminiscence is real, and there is something fake about a birthday party so long after the actual date.

As I got older, I took the situation into my own hands. From the age of 10 or 11 I went away to overnight camp, stayed the entire summer, and always celebrated my birthday there. I relieved my parents of the guilt of not having a party. At camp friends would make cards for me in arts and crafts and at dinner the whole camp – maybe 150 people – would sing to me in the dining hall. I got my own personal cake with a single sparkler flashing as it was placed in front of me, and I could share it with whomever I wanted.

The best part of the day was the show that lit up the clear night sky after the sun went down. Every year in mid-August, the summer sky is full of shooting stars as the comet Swift-Tuttle’s debris results in the Perseid meteor shower, always peaking within a day or so of my birthday. We would lie on the grass looking up, seeing literally dozens of shooting stars every hour in the dark country sky. It was a spectacular show, a great celebration. I could never have asked for anything more.

I don’t really care too much about my birthday now. A nice dinner with my wife, a text with wishes from my children (at a minimum), and the requisite box of fancy chocolates from Bon Bons, our local chocolatier as our family tradition requires, is all I ask for. I’ve only thrown myself two birthday celebrations as an adult, and those only on significant, well-rounded years, and I’ve no interest in a surprise party. Light pollution where we now live prohibits a good view of shooting stars, plus, I am rarely up late enough at night for the best observation. But Dave, one of my closest friends from camp, still contacts me every year close to my birthday to send me wishes. He never recalls the actual date but knows that when the Perseid meteor shower peaks in the mid-August sky, it is within a day or two of the anniversary of my birth. I am grateful he remembers.

I may have suffered from lack of birthday parties as a kid, but I think I’ve finally gotten over it. Even without extensive therapy, I think I’ll be okay. If your birthday is in the middle of the summer when everyone else seems to be off having fun, I’m with you. I understand your plight and I wish you a Happy Birthday!

Chocolate Chip Cake

At camp the cake was always a boxed sheet cake with commercial frosting. Perfectly acceptable for the circumstances. When we celebrated anyone’s birthday at home, I recall my mother preparing my grandmother Jeanette’s chocolate chip cake. It’s really nothing more than a gussied up boxed cake mix, but it seemed fancier and so much more when I was younger. It is the perfect example of using a common modern-day amenity and taking it up a notch.

According to the card in her recipe box, my grandmother got her recipe from Rita D., a friend and neighbor who my mother recalls as an excellent baker. Where Rita got the recipe, I will never know, however I suspect it is some 1950’s modification gleaned from a popular magazine or back of a cake mix box.

The recipe specifies Duncan Hines yellow cake mix, but I’m sure any brand would work. The addition of instant vanilla pudding results in a surprisingly moist crumb, and the chocolate chips both mixed in and sprinkled on top make it extra special. And the grated Baker’s German chocolate added to the batter and sprinkled over the top when it comes out of the oven makes it extra rich. It is a simple cake made fancy, one that I loved as a child and is still pretty good today.

makes a 9 x 13-inch cake, about 1 hour, plus cooling time

cooking oil spray for pan

1 package Duncan Hines yellow cake mix

1 package instant vanilla pudding

3 large eggs

½ cup vegetable oil

1 cup water

1-4 oz. bar Baker’s German chocolate (or semi-sweet chocolate), finely grated on a rotary-type cheese grater (i.e., a Mouli grater) or the small holes of a box grater, divided

6 oz. bittersweet chocolate chips, divided

1 to 2 Tbsp. powdered sugar, for dusting

1. Preheat oven to 350 ^oF.
2. Spray the bottom and sides of a 9 x 13-inch pan with cooking oil spray and set aside.
3. Blend cake mix, instant pudding, eggs, oil, and water in a large bowl on low speed for 30 seconds and then medium speed for an additional two minutes.
4. Fold in half of the grated German chocolate and half of the chocolate chips.
5. Pour into pan and sprinkle on remaining chocolate chips.
6. Bake in center rack of oven for 30 to 40 minutes until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean.
7. Remove from oven and place on rack. After five minutes, sprinkle the remaining grated German chocolate over the top of the cake.
8. Allow to cool completely in pan and dust with powdered sugar before serving.

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