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More Cake

Cranberry Cake

I’m obsessed with this cake. It started out as my great grandma Nell’s rhubarb cake, but I swapped out the shortening for butter and the rhubarb for cranberries. It’s super good and easy to make. I remember making it when I was, like, 10 years old, so it’s pretty fool-proof.

Cranberry Cake
1 1/2 cups brown sugar, packed
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 tsp vanilla
1 egg
1 cup buttermilk
dash of salt
2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 cups cranberries, chopped (I measured before giving a quick pulse in the food processor)

Cream the butter and sugar, add the vanilla and egg and beat until fluffy, then add the buttermilk and mix. Add the flour, salt, and baking soda and mix until combined. Add the cranberries. Pour into greased 9 x 11 inch pan and bake at 350 for about 35 minutes.

(The original recipe calls for topping it with 1/2 cup of brown sugar before baking, but that made it too sweet. I’m going without this time. If it’s not sweet enough, which is unlikely, I’ve got some cream cheese and can make frosting for it. This is more of a naked cake, though, so I don’t think that’ll be necessary.)

If you want to try the original version, just substitute 1 1/2 cups of finely diced raw rhubarb for the cranberries.

Crankypantsing

Hey Asshole, Your Racism Is Showing

So. One of the maintenance guys was out back, picking up after the stray cats, so that the painter can finish painting the deck and fence. Apparently he didn’t like working around piles of cat shit, and who could blame him? The maintenance guy, that’s who. His exact words: “That little Messican always has something to complain about.” Um, wow. Unlike Mr. Maintenance, who was complaining to a TENANT about having to do his JOB. (And the painter is actually Ecuadoran and is taller than Mr. Maintenance, just for extra FAIL. Not to mention that he’s college educated and way over-qualified to be painting decks, but, you know, it’s a job.)

I am gobsmacked. And I wonder if it’s just because I’m white that Mr. Maintenance felt comfortable sharing his racist little rant, or if he’s totally oblivious to the fact that he’s a racist, or if I’ve ever done or said something that made him think I’d be sympathetic to his asshole beliefs.