… boyfriend’s gramma’s red velvet cake. I truly do. Why is it that almost every gramma is notorious for producing only the absolute best cake that you ever put into your mouth? My own gramma (not the s’mores one, the other one) used to make those pound cakes that put all the other pound cakes to shame. She barely measured the ingredients, as she’d made that same cake practically every Sunday for at least the first 20 years of my life. And even though she now can’t remember what she ate for breakfast, if she ate breakfast, or even who I am on most occasions, I swear to you – if she were strong enough to stand and mix it – she could probably whip up one of them right now, at 94.5 years of age, and the taste of it would have you all begging for mercy. She can even...
