👉 Writing with AI: The Mock Baba Cake and the Mystery Grandma Story
Writing with AI: The Mock Baba Cake and the Mystery Grandma Story
I didn’t expect AI to so easily capture my feelings.
This started as something simple. I randomly pulled a recipe from a yard-sale recipe box — one of those old index-card collections that feel like time capsules. But as I talked through the find, the memories, and my observations, something unexpected happened.
It felt like a spiritual whisper from the past, carried on a recipe card.
I thought I was just reconstructing a recipe.
Instead, I helped reconstruct a memory.
I wrote out the recipe.
I shared the story behind it.
I laughed at my own kitchen habits.
And somewhere in that process, AI reflected something back to me I didn’t even realize I was carrying.
Below is the recipe.
Scroll to the end to see what AI created from our collaboration.
I was going to have a recipe made.
Instead, I had a memory made.
🍋 Mock Baba Cake — A Lost Recipe, a Found Memory, and a Tribute to an Unknown Grandma
Some recipes arrive in our lives like old friends we didn’t know we were missing.
I found this one tucked inside a yard-sale recipe box — handwritten in that soft, looping script you mostly saw from the 1950s through the 1970s. The kind of handwriting that feels like Sunday dresses, Tupperware parties, and church potlucks.
The “C” for “cup” wavered just a little — the way handwriting does when hands get older.
And right there, in fading blue ink, was the title:
Mock Baba Cake
Not the fancy European Baba au Rhum.
Not bubble-tea boba.
Just a humble shortcut Bundt cake — the kind women passed around on index cards for decades.
During young married life the receipe box was on the kitchen counter and copying recipes was a right of passage into adulthood - it was supreme compliment when someone asked for the recipe, nowadays we are happy if they ask where we bought the dessert!
This is my tribute to the unknown mom or grandma who wrote it down.
She may be gone, but her cake lives on.
🍋 Mock Baba Cake (Vintage 1970s Bundt Version)
Cake
- 1 box yellow cake mix
- 1 box instant lemon pudding mix
- 4 eggs
- ¾ cup oil (originally “salad oil”)
- ¾ cup water
Glaze Option 1 — Lemon Drizzle
- 2 cups powdered sugar
- 2 tablespoons water
- Juice of 1 lemon (modern lemons are larger — closer to 2 vintage lemons)
Her handwritten note:
“If frosting is too thick, spread it some as it will melt into the cake.”
That line alone is worth saving.
Glaze Option 2 — Frozen Lemonade or OJ Glaze
(A very 1970s secret weapon.)
- 1 cup powdered sugar
- 2 tablespoons butter, softened
- ⅓ cup frozen lemonade OR orange juice concentrate
⭐ Modern Recipe Note: Cake Mixes Have Changed
Vintage cake mixes were 18.25 oz.
Modern mixes are 15.25 oz.
To rebalance:
- Add ¼ cup flour OR
- Add 2 tablespoons instant pudding OR
- Add 2 tablespoons cake mix from a second box
Instructions
1️⃣ Preheat & Prep
Preheat oven to 350°F
Grease and flour Bundt pan
2️⃣ Mix Cake
Combine everything.
Beat 2 minutes medium speed.
Batter will be thick — that’s correct.
3️⃣ Bake
Bake 45–55 minutes
Cool 10 minutes in pan
Turn out while warm
4️⃣ Glaze
Pour glaze slowly over warm cake.
It melts in.
That’s exactly what you want.
💛 Modern Notes From My Kitchen
“Salad oil” in the 70s meant whatever was cheapest.
Today I often use:
- Coconut oil
- MCT oil
Light olive oil works too, but strong olive oil will fight the lemon.
Add lemon zest if you want brighter flavor.
This cake freezes beautifully.
💛 Personal Reflection
Finding this recipe hit me harder than I expected.
I lost my own recipe box years ago during moves — the one from my early married life. The one with spills, smudges, and notes written while babies tugged at my pant leg.
My girls missed those handwritten pieces of our history.
And the family joke is true — I cook by feel.
I never make the same recipe twice.
But baking?
Baking is science.
Baking is precision.
Baking is where I slowed down enough to write things down.
Holding someone else’s fading handwriting felt like touching a piece of my own past.
This cake is more than dessert.
It’s proof that kitchens hold stories — and sometimes those stories find their way back to us.
💛 To the Unknown Grandma Who Wrote This
Thank you.
For your handwriting.
For your notes.
For your Bundt-pan wisdom.
For the recipe you probably made a hundred times.
Your cake lives on.


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