I liked how that molded chocolate-brown cake looked. How that cake was topped with hard sauce and cranberries was just amazing. That welcoming smell of the steamed cranberries filled my heart with Christmas memories. I stood in the kitchen hearing Grammy put in her two cents worth about how this cake may not taste like her mother’s. My four siblings and I all stood in the kitchen fighting over who was going to blend the rosy red cranberries, the plain white flour, the sticky molasses that gets all over our hands when we try to reach up and pour it into the blender, the baking soda dissolved in boiling water, and that salt that we sometimes mistake for sugar. Then one of us calls who is going to spew all those ingredients into the greased coffee can. Now my Grandmother covers the coffee can with heavy aluminum foil, tying string around the top to assure that it is secure. Then we seat the coffee can in a covered pot for ninety minutes. We let it cool for twenty minutes. Now we have to make the hard sauce. We all get to add one ingredient the into the blender: I get to pour in the butter, Olivia gets to flow the vanilla extract in, Liam gets to pour in the confectioners sugar, Ronan gets to put in the heavy cream and Lachlan gets to blend up all the ingredients.We top the cake with the soft “hard sauce” and halved cranberries. I like that molded chocolate brown look that welcomes me with the smell that fills my heart with all of my Christmas memories.