....There are two Martas in my life, my mother and my daughter. Some time ago the youngest one of them sent an sms to the oldest; "Grandma, can you please teach me to bake fyrstekake?" My mother is the queen of fyrstekake (can anybody give me an Englsih name for this cake?) and it is found on the table on most of the parties in our family. Through my 50 years I have always imagined that it is difficult to bake though, and I haven't even tried it.......
....Last week Marta went to her grandparents for a sleepover, and on the timetable was of course - the baking of a fyrstekake. When finished the cake was cut in two and wrapped in solverfoil. One half to go to cousin Kamilla who is spending her summer vacation in Germany, the other half to go with us to the cabin.
We didn't see the fyrstekake untill the next morning when it was time for our first cup of coffee. Marta was excited and anxious: "oh, my cake looks nothing like grandma. I am sure you will note like it......"
In my eyes the fyrstekake looked exactly like grandma's, and I don't have to say that we loved it, do I?
Photos: Coffee and fyrstekake is ready at the cabin terracce.