“Have you seen a doctor yet, honey?”
Food for Thought
BY JENNY MAJESKY
Heaven in a Bottle
A nursing mother should drink something alcoholic every day, as long as she doesn’t have a drinking problem. A doctor wouldn’t tell you this, but my grandmother and her friends all believed it. Give a nursing mother a glass of beer to drink every evening, and it’s good for her milk production. A very moderate amount doesn’t affect the baby at all.
My grandmother was never much of a drinker, but we always had liquor in the house to use in her baking—sherry for Fanny Farmer cakes, Triple Sec for the fruitcake, Kahlúa with its variety of uses, rum and, of course, Irish Cream. Decades ago, Gram found a recipe for a cake on an Irish Cream label, and Grandpa liked it so much that he finished off the rest of the bottle. Afterward, they could be seen snuggling on the porch swing.
She made the cake so many times, she never really had to refer to the recipe again. This cake freezes well, and makes a nice gift.
IRISH CREAM CAKE
½ cup finely chopped pecans
½ cup finely shredded coconut
1 (18.25 ounce) package yellow cake mix
1 (3.4-ounce) package instant vanilla pudding mix
4 eggs
¼ cup water
½ cup vegetable oil
¾ cup Irish Cream liqueur
½ cup butter
¼ cup water
1 cup white sugar
¼ cup Irish Cream liqueur
Preheat oven to 325°F. Grease and flour a 10-inch Bundt pan. Sprinkle chopped nuts and coconut evenly over bottom of pan.
In a large bowl, combine cake mix and pudding mix. Mix in eggs, ¼ cup water, ½ cup oil and ¾ cup Irish Cream liqueur. Beat for 5 minutes at high speed. Pour batter over nuts in pan.
Bake for 60 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the cake comes out clean. Cool for 10 minutes in the pan while you prepare the glaze. To make the glaze, combine butter, ¼ cup water and 1 cup sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil and continue boiling for 5 minutes, stirring constantly with a whisk. Remove from heat and whisk in ¼ cup Irish Cream.
Invert the cooled cake onto a serving platter. Prick top and sides of cake. Spoon glaze over top and brush onto sides of cake, until the glaze is absorbed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
1991
“I’ve made up my mind,” Nina said to her friends, who were waiting for her outside the clinic where she’d gone for a counseling session. “I’m keeping it.”
Jenny, Joey and Rourke sat silently in Rourke’s Volvo. As a camp counselor this year, he was entitled to bring a car. He and Joey had permission to be off-premises for the afternoon. A breeze from the river blew through the open windows. “Alive” by Pearl Jam was playing on the radio. The three of them had been waiting for Nina for over an hour. Jenny imagined she could feel the guys squirming, although she couldn’t actually see them move. Pregnant girls and family-planning clinics were not exactly favorite topics with boys, that was for sure. As for Jenny, she greeted the news with mixed emotions, but for Nina’s sake, she smiled as she scooted across the backseat and motioned for Nina to get in. “All right,” she said. “Then…congratulations.”
Rourke adjusted the rearview mirror. “Seat belt,” he said, and both girls complied.
Jenny kept looking over at Nina and trying to imagine what she was feeling. Nina just looked down at her lap. A moment later, she took some colorful brochures out of her purse and started looking through them. She was just fifteen. Fifteen. She didn’t even have her license yet, but before long she’d have a baby to look after twenty-four/seven, and no husband to help her with it. And actually having it—Jenny had seen the standard film in health class, and wanted no part of giving birth. The very idea that a whole baby came out down there was… Jenny resisted the urge to squirm right along with the guys. She still went to a pediatrician, for cripe’s sake, and as far as she knew, so did Nina. There was a kind of doctor called a “gynecologist,” but Jenny didn’t even know whether that was pronounced with a hard or soft “g” and was too embarrassed to ask. Not having a mother meant not having someone to ask stuff like that. At least Nina had a mom. A mom who was probably going to ground her for life when Nina told her she was pregnant.
The guys were quiet. Joey was staring out the window. Rourke was scowling at the road; she could see his frown of concentration in the rearview mirror. As always, Joey and Rourke were a study in contrasts, earning them the nickname Bill & Ted, after the goofy movie about likable boneheads who were best friends. Rourke was the blond, suntanned surfer, while Joey’s black hair, dark eyes and full mouth reminded her of Keanu Reeves. Privately, Jenny thought they were more like Jay Gatsby and Nick Carraway, but that reference was lost on most people.
Rourke glanced into the rearview mirror and caught her looking at him. Flustered, she shifted in her seat and turned to the window with a fake-interested look. She had to be careful around Rourke, because even though he swore Joey wanted her to be his girlfriend, she was suffering from the most unbelievable crush on Rourke. She had from the first day she’d met him, when he’d gotten into a fight to protect her.
She wondered if she would ever get used to the way he looked. Doubtful. Each summer it was the same. Kioga would open for business and she would help her grandfather with the bakery deliveries. Going up to the camp was like stepping into a different world, an idyllic place from the past. She always marveled at the people who attended the camp. She was reminded of something she’d read by F. Scott Fitzgerald—who
