The Significance of the 2-Egg Cake

My parents were never millionaires but growing up during the 1920’s they had a more-than-comfortable lifestyle.  My maternal grandfather was a successful architect and builder.  My father’s father designed unique luxury automobiles for some of the wealthiest financiers in New York.  Upon graduation from business school, my father had been promised a job with a prestigious firm on Wall Street.  His first day on the job was October 23^rd, 1929, the day before “Black Tuesday”.  Two days later the job did not exist. 

 

Like so many other families, the depression destroyed both of my grandparents’ businesses.  

We had trunks in our attic filled with fancy gowns, gold-banded slippers and velvet “opera” capes that told of an earlier season in my mother’s life, but by the time my parents married, in 1937, the fancy reception she might have had was reduced to a small wedding breakfast with immediate family.  

 

My father eventually became an automobile salesman – a good job and well suited for him because of his experience, his natural “gift of gab” and his sincere interest in people.  However his income depended not just on selling the cars, but on getting them delivered.  During the 1950’s union strikes plagued the steel and automobile industries and new cars were hard to come by. So it was not a steady income.

 

The life I experienced growing up was a simple one.  We never had much money, but I never felt “poor”!  

 

We lived in a modest, small but comfortable house in a modest, middle-class neighborhood.  We had the clothes we needed for school – mostly uniforms – and play clothes – though mine were frequently my brother’s hand-me-downs.  We each had 3 pairs of socks and 3 sets of underwear because, as my mother explained,  “You need one to be wearing, one to be washing and one extra just in case …”.  

 

My father believed in quality rather than quantity, so I always had one good dress for church or special occasions – and it seemed to last forever.  When I grew an inch or two, my mother would simply let down the hem.  But when it finally came time for a new dress, we went to the best department store in town. 

 

Looking back, I believe the reason I did not “feel poor” was mainly a result of my mother’s attitude.  She had a quiet strength and the ability to roll with the ebb and flow of our financial situation. She was proud to say she was a “housewife” and she learned to shop wisely and plan meals and treats within the changing weekly budget.  

 

We always had desert and her yellow cake, which she made from scratch, was my favorite.  One morning I remember walking into the kitchen when she was mixing the batter in that old, brown pottery bowl.  She went to the refrigerator and pulled out an egg, then hesitated and pulled out another egg.  She turned to me with a smile and said, “Your dad had a good week – delivered several cars – so today we’ll have a 2-egg cake!”

 

How could you feel poor when you were having a 2-egg cake for desert!