Grandma Maria’s Bread Cake. A grandma I met this past summer, we found ourselves together at a village festival, sitting next to each other chatting about this and that. So she told me how she used to make the bread cake of her youth spent in the plains where sometimes nothing was everything. A do-it-all woman, getting on in years, who continues to make cakes for her grandchildren and hand-roll tagliatelle: – Because for just a couple of tagliatelle you don’t need the machine; and then it keeps me busy, she said. Really, a little was enough back then to make a sweet for the party or at least its flavor. Stale bread was used, whatever was left, when it was left, and a little sugar was the basis of everything.

To make it truly a “sweet thing,” cocoa was added, if luck was with us. But the day Maria felt rich, even pieces of dark chocolate bars that soldiers sometimes let slip, or gifted to us, were added. Even the raisins were special, certainly not the plump ones you buy today; they were the ones I myself dried under the pergolas in the late summer sun, a dark and shriveled treasure. The store-bought ones were a luxury not everyone could afford…

And if there wasn’t enough milk or if it was entirely missing, water was enough. No fuss was made. That’s how bread cake was born, our luxury. I made it on true festive days. And it was a celebration, plain and simple. The banquet was never lavish – we certainly couldn’t emulate the feasts of the gentry – But that humble dough, made of few and precious ingredients for us, was proof that a bit of ingenuity was enough to content ourselves and bring a smile. That cake tasted like home.

Following are some recipes for cakes that are not very trendy.