Who would’ve thought that pound cake could conjure up conversation?

The sight, aroma, taste or even mention of pound cake seems to take people back to a different time. Lately I’ve been “sharing the cake-love” at the Cotswold Farmer’s Market in Charlotte. There are shoppers who head straight for the fresh produce or the vegan stuff and then there are shoppers who take a second look at the Fannie Bragg booth. I don’t know if it’s the black and white striped banner that catches their attention or the mountain of boxed cakes. More than likely, though, it’s the pound cake on a cake plate, under a glass dome, from which I cut slices for samples. There isn’t a Saturday that goes by that someone doesn’t stop to chat about cake … how their grandmama made it or their favorite way to eat it.

“I like it toasted”, is a comment I frequently hear.

And I couldn’t agree more.

There is something wonderfully simple about toasted pound cake. Warm … crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside. It’s a heartwarming and soul-warming sensation to breathe in the aroma and then chow down. It’s perfectly acceptable slather softened butter on top, not that pound cake needs more butter. But it is, indeed, perfectly acceptable.