Texas Sheet Cake

I called my sister, Dawn, with a question about one of our grandmother's recipes - the Texas Sheet Cake. The recipe begins with boiling oleo, cocoa powder, and water and ends with sour cream. Momma's recipes are almost always right on, but skimpy in details. Her recipes command to "bake until done" and "mix well." I didn't have a good feeling about the cake and called Dawn for insight. Dawn got out her copy and rattled off the recipe for Texas Sheet Cake like an old pro. Dawn has made the cake several times and has said everyone has always loved it. My sister had just baked an apple pie using our grandmother's recipe. Dawn said that the cake would be brownie-like in the baking sheet. Sheet? I had used a 9 x 13 pan for the cake and said so.

Dawn - You're supposed to use a sheet pan, Julie.
Julie - Shit, Dawn! why didn't you tell me to use a sheet pan?
Dawn - It says it right in the name - Texas SHEET cake.
Julie - Why can't it be a 9 X 13 cake?
Dawn: Because it isn't, Julie.

I then classified the cake as an experiment and hoped for the best. My sister reminded me that today is my grandmother's birthday. November 24th shepherded Marie Della into the world ninety three years ago. I hadn't realized that today. I've been forgetful with birthdays lately. It's probably the tell tale signs of the inevitable Alzheimer's disease I will develop in my advanced years. My grandmother, her three sisters and my great-grandmother all went nuts in the end. My fore-mothers have passed down some kooky mitochondria. Dawn and I stopped to appreciate the fact that we honored our grandmother by baking her foods. Though in my case, the Texas Sheet Cake may be a happy accident or an office joke tomorrow. I'm sure Momma would approve of Dawn's apple pie. My grandmother's linguistics aren't lost on Dawn.

Charlotte