On the outside looking in

I don't think that having a bad day, being sick or even terminally ill gives one the right to be a total bitch to everyone… but maybe it does; however, it’s difficult and disappointing to witness from this standpoint.

Doped

The only comfort right now is in knowing that she won't remember any of this in the morn.

Missing mom before she's gone

I'm having a hard day today. Missing my mom already and she's not even gone yet.

Last I wrote, mom had just informed me that the cancer is terminal. I think part of me always suspected that it would likely lead to this. I think researching the cancer and understanding what had already been happening to mom prepared me somewhat for this news… you can never be completely prepared though.

Cancer Research UK: What happens in the final days of life

She's back

Erica went to see mom yesterday.  She talked directly to Dr. Burke.  She sends a text.

It reads:  “Well I guess I spoke with an optimistic Dr.  Moms main Dr. (Dr. Burks (sic)) came in and I spoke with him.  He is more pessimistic. Says he expects the cancer to show its self within the next few weeks.  That even though he did not give her a time frame we should probably plan on the shorter version of her plan. I like the other Drs version better but after talking to him I guess…”

I’m at mom’s feeding Buffy.

I respond:  “Yes, this cancer made its reappearance in less than a year from the first operation. And then it was very fast growing. I think all we can do is go day by day… I love you.”

She replies:  “He is looking at late next week bringing her to warm springs.  She just wants to be incoherent so she doesn’t have to deal with any of it. I guess I understand that but every time I come she sleeps. She cried when I left Sunday so I promised her I’d come… I just watch her sleep every time I’m here.”

I respond:  “Probably good to just sleep thru it right now…”

As I said, the truth will work itself out… I didn’t think it would happen this quickly though.  If Erica and I had been talking normally, I could have tried to prepare her for this.  Maybe, this is the way it was supposed to be though…

Once home, I call mom.  She is moaning a lot as if she is in a great deal of pain. She says her pain level is actually a -6- but when the nurse asks a short time later she tells her that it’s a -9- because it must be a high pain level for them to give her Morphine.  She wants Morphine.  Mom says she wants me and Erica to get together to arrange the ambulance ride home.  I assure her that we will both be there on Saturday and can discuss it then.  She says that she is ready to get out of the hospital.  She is frustrated with the nurses now, probably because they withdrew the Morphine.  We talk for about 30-40 minutes and Erica sends me a text.

It reads:  “I’m going Friday to stay with mom for the weekend. I can’t go the following weekend.  I’m hoping she’ll be home by then but if that doesn’t happen I was hoping you could go that weekend and stay with her???”

I don’t respond by text – I want to call her instead.

Erica goes over again what Dr. Burke had reported.  She talks again about how much mom sleeps when she visits her.  She talk quite a while and this time it seems as though she actually wants to talk to me.  I’m fighting back tears because she needs me and I need her… especially now.  She goes on and on as if nothing were ever wrong between us and I have a sense of relief despite our stressful topic (mom). At one point she states, “Up until Tuesday, I thought mom was coming home to heal…” Her voice trails off and I know that she is crying silently.  I whisper, “it’s okay…” She regains composure. I'll be going to her home tomorrow to drop off more citrus green tea for her to take to mom.

I think I have my sister back… finally.

Erica calls

Erica calls me at work and I go into Micah’s empty office to talk with her.  (Of course, I do not hang up on her. I would never do that.)  She asks if I’ve talked to Aunt Jeanette and I reply that I had.  I understand what she reported to Aunt Jeanette and we discuss what the doctor had told Erica exactly.  She talks to me with a matter-of-fact tone and I get the feeling that she’s having this conversation with me because she feels she has to, not because she wants to talk to me.  

Conflicting reports on mom's prognosis

I go out to get the kids some breakfast and Sonic ice for Roy’s knee but swing by my Aunt Carolyn’s first.  I want to visit with her about the discrepancies in her account of mom’s prognosis and the account I was told by the doctor because should there be further discussion with Brenda or Erica, I want to have my information together.  She’s not home so I swing by Aunt Jeanette’s. 

*

Aunt Jeanette had called me the day after I found out about mom’s prognosis.  I was at work but outside leaving for the day.  Roy was waiting in the car.  Aunt Jeanette was obviously devastated.  She felt bad for us (daughters) having lost a dad and now going through this with mom.  She wanted me to know that she loved me and that she would always be available for me.  It makes me cry just typing this.  Her little sister is dying and she’s grieving on so many different levels – as we all are.  I cry and tell her I love her too. 

*

Uncle Jim answers the door and we all sit in the living room to talk.  Since Aunt Carolyn is no longer staying with mom at the hospital, I suppose I feel someone should pass along the doctor’s reports.  When I’d left the hospital Saturday, I wasn’t sure if Brenda and Erica would have an opportunity to talk to a doctor or not.  Since then, Brenda had called me but I’d missed the call.  She left a voice message explaining, with a bit of the attitude I’d expected, that they’d talked with a doctor and received a much different report than that of the one mom gave. 

I talked with my aunt and uncle about what the doctor had told me.  It seems every time a doctor speaks, we get very few answers.  We talked a little bit about the reaction I expected from Brenda and possibly Erica.  We talked a little bit about Erica’s continued animosity towards me.  We talked about several of their kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids.  We talked until I began getting calls and texts from Candice and Roy and I knew I needed to leave to get their lunch.

It wasn’t long after I’d left that I received a call from Aunt Jeanette informing me that Erica had called her with a much different report than mine.  Erica said that the doctor that talked to me had misinformed me.  (This struck me weird because Erica didn’t know details about what the doctor had said to me, unless she was speaking about from what Aunt Jeanette had told her that I’d said.)  Erica told Aunt Jeanette that a team of doctors had come in and told her that there was no time line, the balls were not cancerous, and they had found a little bit of cancer when doing the surgery on the fistula but had removed it so therefore mom was cancer-free.  Aunt Jeanette said Erica had tried to call me several times but I had hung up on her. (Wow! I’m floored by this because it’s completely untrue.  She had not tried to call me – there was nothing on the caller I.D.  And do not try to say that maybe she called the wrong number because I’m in her cellphone address book and that would be, frankly, bullshit.  I just have an issue with people who have to tell bold-face lies to validate themselves. But whatever… )

Aunt Jeanette was confused now and this was exactly what I was trying to avoid.  I couldn’t talk to Erica because she wasn’t talking to me but now we are not on the same page because of it and just confusing everyone.  Aunt Jeanette suggest that I make copies of the papers that the doctor provided to me and that we could sit down with her daughter, Ellen, who is a R.N. to help us understand it.

I decide to sit back and stay silent.  I don’t need to discuss this right now.  The truth will work itself out.

Rationally thinking, Erica and I are probably both right.  I mean, if the doctors are in there doing surgery and see a little bit of cancer, they are going to cut it out.  They are not going to just leave it in her so they can do yet another surgery later to remove it.  So, yeah, they took it out.  But she is likely not cancer-free.  This is more than likely a recurrence.

Doctor's report on Mom's cancer

Roy and I went to visit mom again at M.D. Anderson.  Aaron, Candice, Wolfie, and Drew went along with us.  We leave early (about 5:30 a.m.) so we can be there early enough to see the doctor.  Around the corner from the hospital, we stop at a grocery store for flowers and are greeted in the entrance by shelves of orchids.  Around the bottom of the flower are several other types of greenery. I like them because they are planted and less likely to decay too fast.  Drew and Candice pick out their favorite.

Roy is in a wheelchair he is still in a lot of pain from his knee surgery.  We stroll/roll into the room and present her with the flower.  She loves it and I place it in the window and add a bit of water.  Mom is a tad groggy and has just finished her morning Boost drink.  This is all that she can stomach right now. She drinks about two a day, but on a good day, three.  She asks me to make her one of her mixed drinks (a 50/50 concoction of citrus green tea and apple juice) which we have all come to refer to as “her cocktails”.

We all sit and visit for about an hour and then the nurse comes in to clean her up so I send everyone to the “Observation Floor” which is the very top floor where people can lounge and look out across the town from all sides of the building.  I sit with mom.

After a while, I try to bring up the papers she needs to sign. She had asked me to bring the Franchise Tax papers so she could sign and I could send for filing, also forms from the broker regarding her shares getting transferred to another brokerage firm, and the title to her truck because she wants Aaron to have it.  I show them to her so she can review to see if they are filled out correctly but she is in some pain and doesn’t want to deal with the Franchise Tax. She semi-signs the papers from the broker, and she decides that she would rather gift the title to Aaron because it’s cheaper for him.  I put the papers up not wanting to deal with it anymore.

A “white coat” comes in.  She’s cute with pixie-cut red hair and extra piercings in her ears. She hands some paperwork to me with information about mom’s diagnosis and procedures.  Some of it is Greek to me, and other parts are more obvious – overall, it doesn’t help clear up anything really.  She goes on to say that they biopsied two “balls” medically referred to as “punches” and both came back as benign and unidentifiable. These punches were then sent to a skin specialist who also could not identify them.  “So they’re anomalies then?” I ask humorously.  “Yes” she replies with a giggle.  (Leave it to mom to render everyone clueless.)

She explains that during the surgery on the fistula the doctor found another very small cancer.  He was very surprised by this and she couldn’t say whether it was a recurrence, or whether it was left behind from the surgery to remove the cancer last February.  She says it could have been so small that it was missed, but that would be very, very unlikely.

She goes on to explain “there is no time line, that’s up to your mom…” (I don’t know if she’s referring to mom’s state of mind and the importance of a positive or negative attitude or if she’s referring to mom deciding whether or not she wants to have more surgery.)  “We could remove it but we might be chasing our tails and, your mom’s really tired.”  She doesn’t know if cancer is traveling through mom’s system or not but confirms, “oh yes, she still has cancer.” 

I’m taken aback some by the differences in what I am told today by the doctor and what mom had initially said.  First, the doctor did know whether the cancer was traveling through her body.  Second, there was no timeline given to mom.  I worry that mom, being a bit delirious, reported a more dramatic prognosis for herself.  Did she jump to conclusions. Have we been misled and have I inadvertently misled my children? I try to rationalize. 

Look, this cancer first reared its head a year ago. Made a reappearance in December (less than a year later) and grew quickly and invasively in a matter of a couple of months.  They took it out again clearing a wide margin to ensure that they had everything, and already in only a month, we are seeing it again.  Realistically, this thing is in her body and it is terminal. So, despite the differences in reports, it is all still very serious.  And I knew this.  It’s been in my head that the longer she stays in that hospital, and the continued complications, she is still in very critical condition.  But, if Brenda and Erica hear this report as I heard it, knowing my sisters, I can already guess their reaction.  Brenda will hit the roof, and Erica, since she is buddying up with Brenda, will likely follow her lead.

I text the family to come back down to visit with mom more.  We get in about another hour and then mom needs her urostomy cleaned up.  Knowing the stench from this, I quickly shuffle the family back out of the room.  I stay. 

Brenda, Erica, and Kaitlyn arrive about 2:30 or 3:00.  Erica has the folder with funeral arrangements; however, there are no specific instructions, just a few poems, bible verses, and song suggestions that mom likes.  Erica asks mom about who she would like to officiate over the funeral ceremony and there is some discussion before she opts for Brenda’s suggestion, a preacher who is evidently somewhat familiar with mom somehow.  Erica asks mom which funeral home she would prefer and mom opts for the same place used for dad’s funeral.  Mom waves Kaitlyn over to her and hugs her.  They break down in sobs and mom apologizes for the dire prognosis and reminds Kaitlyn of how much she loves her.  Brenda and Erica cry and I’m fighting the tears back.  Erica presents a card to mom made special by her daughter, Rachael. Again, everyone is crying and I’m, again, fighting back tears. 

It’s about 3:15 and I know my family is long past hungry so I text them to come down and say goodbye.

They enter and make their way around the room, hugging mom goodbye, and Brenda stops each one to pass out hugs.  Brenda is either well over our drama from the hotel stay or putting on a really good front.  Either way, it’s a relief. Erica is still not speaking to me. When I say anything, she refuses to even look in my direction. Her head is cocked as if to intentionally snub me. I’m trying to take the high road and treat her as if we can have an argument but we can get over it like adults, but times like these frustrate me all over again and I really do want to yell at her. I’ve sent her text messages here and there about mom, and reminding her that I loved her (with no reply).  I’ve had talks with her on the phone a couple times at most, but something in her voice told me she was still angry and only speaking with me because she felt she had to.  Brenda’s impressed with how much Wolfie has grown – he’s taller than me and giving Aaron some competition finally.  As I leave, I hug Brenda, Kaitlyn, and then grab Erica by the wrist forcing her up and into a hug. I squeeze her tightly only to find out later that she’d made a face behind my back (I can imagine her quite clearing doing her rolling of the eyes thing).

Telling Jr and Corey: Mema's cancer is terminal

I get home from work. Jr. is in the kitchen talking to his dad. I had asked Roy to break the news to Jr. and Corey because I’m exhausted with it and it’s his turn now. They wrap up their conversation and Roy is leaving the kitchen and I ask him quickly if he’d told Jr. yet.

“No.”

Guess I’ll do it. 

Jr. reacts with surprise.  He too didn’t see it coming but then, I haven’t kept him up to date on her status much either.  He is silent and I can see that he is trying to process the information.

I quickly get on the phone to text Corey the information as well.

It reads:  “You know Mema is at M.D. Anderson, right. And she had her cancer removed. It came back… which means it’s in her organs and traveling thru her system. This means it’s terminal. I wanted you to know right away rather than wait until you came down again. The doctor gave her 3 months to a year. We are going to see her again this weekend but she is trying to get moved to Warm Springs here in Victoria. Hopefully that will happen quickly.”

He responds much like the other boys:  “Wow that’s horrible. I’m speechless. Yeah hopefully they can have that transfer soon…”

And so it’s done. My family knows and now we wait.

Roy's knee surgery | Telling Wolfie and Drew: Mema isn't getting better

I’m off of work today.  Roy has his knee surgery.  We rise early and head over to the surgery center only to find out that we have arrived two hours early.  The surgery is scheduled for 12:00 and we are to be there an hour early – 11:00a.  It is 10:00a.  C’est la vie.  We wait.  Finally, he is taken back to be prepped and shortly thereafter I meet up with him to sit until surgery time.  The doctor runs late, doesn’t call, and doesn’t arrive until 2:00ish.  We are perturbed by this lack of professionalism or care.  Roy hasn’t slept yet and they give him something to relax him.  I think this knocks him out. 

An hour later surgery is complete.  Roy is the cutest thing as he fights off the anesthesia.  The nurse is asking if he’d like a soda or water, and he responds trying to communicate as if the drugs have no effect on him.  She looks at me and smiles with amusement too.  Slowly he can feel the anesthetic wear off and his hunger kicks in.  He recalls the lights in the surgery room and the voice of certain nurses but not much else.  The doctor comes in and explains that he took care of a tear in the back of the knee but also a flap in the front that he hadn’t initially expected.  Roy has three small incisions with a stitch to hold each closed.  We are told that Roy can expect to walk around like normal by tomorrow and that he should return in a week to have the stitches removed.  We get instructions on after-surgery care, prescriptions, and are on our way.

Eat at Las Palmas.  Steak is good!  Grab Roy’s medicine and put him to bed.  He sleeps.

This evening after work I sit with Roy and ask him about whether or not we should tell Wolfie and Drew. I wish we could get away with not telling them but suspect that it will come out in conversation eventually and I would like to break the news gently.  I talk to him first about my wording and then go to find the kids.

They are in the living room, Wolfie on his laptop and Drew watching her Disney channel. 

“I need to talk to ya’ll about Mema so I need ya’lls attention okay.”

Wolfie immediately closes his laptop and Drew shuts of the tv.  Already nervous, Drew grabs a pillow to hug and asks if it’s good or bad news.

“It’s bad news baby.”  She moans.

“Well” glancing back and forth between the two of them, “You know that she went up to the hospital to have her cancer removed, right.”

“Yeah.”

“Well the cancer came back. So, that means that she’s not going to get better now. She going to get sicker and sicker, okay.”

Drew is squirming and I ask if she’s okay.  “No” she replies and climbs onto my lap.

“Eventually Mema is going to pass away and do you know where she goes when she passes away?”

“Heaven” Drew cries.

“Yes.”

I hug and rock her and reassure them that she still has some time. I let them know that Aaron, Candice, dad and I are going to visit Mema this weekend and Drew insists that she is going too.  Not what I had planned but I can’t deny her.

Telling Aaron: Mema's cancer is terminal

Aaron arrives home this evening.  He is dirty and tired from work.  I feel more of an urgency to tell him about Mema now.  Word is spreading quickly throughout the family and Brenda has already told her kids as well.  I cannot let Aaron hear the news from a Facebook post.  He’s about to jump in the shower and I ask him to come into his room with me.  He follows but moans, “Can it wait?”

“Sure” I reply.

“Is it about Candice?” he tries to clarify.

“No.”

“Is it about Mema?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” He enters the room to hear my report; I tell him that Mema’s cancer is terminal now. She has already had another recurrence and it is likely traveling throughout her body. They expect her to live anywhere from 3 months to a year. My voice cracks and I try to regain composure.  I’ve got to be strong for my family.  Aaron wipes under his eye with his finger. I can see the reality is sinking in slowly and he is not sure how to process the information. I assure him that the has some time and that Roy and I are going to visit her this coming weekend if he and Candice would like to go with us.

He takes a long shower and I know that he is crying in there, then leaves to get Candice.

This is so not happening!

Phase One, denial.

Ran over to mom's after work again today. She's still at M.D. and I got a few more bills in the mail to write checks for. Fed Buffy. She looks like she might be getting another tumor on her belly. Locking up, I glance back at the room. In a perfect world, I could leave this house exactly as it is today. It's my comfort.

I pull out of the driveway and stare at the house as I drive around front. The yellow bricks seem to look so aged and tired, as does the yard. The hedges once provided a full, thriving trim are now shabby and thin, and the yard seems to have gone grey as well. I visualize the healthy yard we grew up with and I can hear the sound of children - of me and my sisters, chattering, laughing, fussing, and just being silly.

Tears.

I drive away and cry as I think about how much things have changed since we all lived in the house. My father has died. My mother will, inevitably, pass one day too. I am growing older and some day it will be me looking death in the face. I used to think I was not afraid to die but, in this moment, I question myself. Am I, afraid of death? Why am I crying? Because I am afraid of losing these things? These situations? These people? What is it that Elizabeth Gilbert said in the movie Eat, Pray, Love in her letter to David? The only real trap is our attachment to anything. If I have no fear of dying because of my full-faith in an afterlife, then why am I crying? Maybe, I do have doubts and, consequently, attachments?

I remember the child I was as I shimmied up the pole to the birdhouse high in the sky so I might witness the miracle of a young hatchling. I was young and I could swing from the tree branches just as good as any real monkey. I was young and I would bike race the boys in the hood, determined that this time I was going to win!  I was young and I sat in the middle of the street practicing my hammering skills with my dad's nails driving them deep into the soft, black pavement so as not to cause any flats. I was young and in search of the smallest, strangest bug one could find. I was young and I dug up arrowheads from the dirt at the end of our driveway (no shit! real arrowheads!). I was young and I lay on the driveway soaking in the warmth exuding from the sun and concrete, and watching the clouds as they drift across the sky. I was young and I sat on the rooftop for a moment of quiet, reflective solitude. I was young and my goal was to never grow old enough that I would ever have responsibilities such as monthly bills and a job.

But, here I am. 

I wonder if my mother just wants her mother. I wonder if my mother no longer desires to mother me but prefers that I mother her now.

I'm home. Drew is having trouble focusing on her school work. She needs direction. We'll have another "talk". Candice needs a ride home and we have a nice chat about the car and Aaron. (This morning, Candice hit the curb - and hard. It blew the tire and bent the rim, but good too.) Home again after dropping off Candice, I start going over the kids schedules for the week, but stop to call mom instead. I'd received an email from Aunt Carolyn this morning stating that she was doing really good. The nose tube was out again, she was able to start on liquids again (and she's keeping them down okay). The bag on her bumm (which collected the "leak" from the fistula had been removed. And, in general, mom was doing better and Aunt Carolyn is thinking of going home this week as she is feeling less needed (finally). My aunt has been through so much during mom's cancer recurrences, and naturally, it's exhausted her a lot. 

I can only imagine.

The phone rings and my aunt answers.  "How's it going?" I chirp expecting to hear all the good news again.

She replies, "Well, I'll let you talk to your mom."

Mom gets on and I ask again how things are going. She immediately tells me...

She immediately tells me...

.....

.....I'm numb. This isn't happening.  I just can't process it - not yet. But when then? How? I don't understand and my response is much the same as when I received the news about dad. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"What are you trying to say?" 

"Are you sure?"

"I don't understand." 

"Are you sure?" 

"What are you talking about?"

Apparently, mom had 3 or 4 more tumors pop up recently and during the surgery on her fistula they biopsied them. Today, Dr. Burke's assistant came to meet with mom and began to cry as she broke the news to her. Mom has only 3 months to 1 year to live. A chaplain had come in to visit and pray with mom just before this.

And, so, Mom isn't coming home. 

She isn't coming home - ever. 

She will end up checking into the M.D. Anderson Hospice Center and remain there until her passing.

I'll never get to just sit in the living room with her to visit and watch tv... ? I'm selfish. I needed those moments.

Mom goes on talking to me about arrangements, and the location of things, and I don't even know what else. She is just going through the motions and it's obvious that she is just as numb as I. I listen to her voice but not her words. She sounds good. She sounds healthier. She sounds lucid. She sounds, numb.

I don't know what to say and I don't want to say anything. I can't think. I can't feel. Every time I allow myself to think or feel, I cry. 

Aaron's birthday is this month and I don't want him to associate this with his birthday so I'm not ready to tell him. I can't let any of the kids know until May. But then there is Drew's birthday. How long can I keep this in? How long should I keep this in? Aaron despises secrets. He would want me to tell him asap. Maybe I should.

This is death.

I think about Candice and how she and her family watched her grandmother die ever so slowly in there own home. Maybe they can offer some words of wisdom to me.

The thought of life going on after you die. You are dead and people still laugh. Still fight. Still move. Still enjoy life. What is going to go through my mother's mind? This woman who I always thought of as such a rock, such a strength; but today, she is feeling so weak. Is she getting mentally ready to actually embrace death? No way, my mom will cry all the way to it. 

What if this were me? What if I were the one passing away? Would I feel alone?

How will we deal with this?

I remember - I know how. I have to be strong for my kids. Teach them to deal with this in a healthy way. This is a spiritual situation and it can be beautiful.

*

Liz's letter to David in Eat, Pray, Love:

"Dear David, We haven't had any communication in a while and it's given me time I needed to think. Remember when you said we should live with each other and be unhappy so that we could be happy? Consider it a testimony to how much I love you that I spent so long pouring myself into that offer trying to make it work. But a friend took me to the most amazing place the other day. It's called the Augusteum. Octavian Augustus built it to house his remains. When the barbarians came, they trashed it along with everything else. The great Augustus, Rome's first true great emperor, how could he have imagined that Rome, the whole world as far as he was concerned, would one day be in ruins? It's one of the quietest and loneliest places in Rome. The city has grown up around it over centuries. It feels like a precious wound, like a heartbreak you won't let go of because it hurts too good. We all want things to stay the same, David. Settle for living in misery because we're afraid of change, of things crumbling to ruins. Then I looked around  in this place, at the chaos it's endured, the way it's been adapted, burned, pillaged, then found a way to build itself back up again, and I was reassured. Maybe my life hasn't been so chaotic. It's just the world that is and the only real trap is getting attached to any of it. Ruin is a gift. Ruin is the road to transformation. Even in this eternal city the Augusteum showed me that we must always be prepared for endless waves of transformation. Both of us deserve better than staying together because we're afraid we'll be destroyed if we don't."

Besides...

Besides my mother developing a fistula and, consequently, leaking feces from her grafted area, and undergoing yet another surgery to repair this recent hiccup, and 

besides Drew's trip to the ER for severe abdomen do to what turned out to be a bladder infection (in addition to the sinus infection and ear infection that she was already enduring), and

besides Roy getting completely prepped for surgery on his knee only to have it fall through at the very last minute due to an emergency with another patient, and 

besides my boss, Micah, giving notice that he will be leaving the law firm so now it will be only me and Lee, and 

besides not receiving my W-2 form until today because the stupid accountants don't have their shit together, and 

besides the kids rough-housing around and falling on one of the laptops semi-breaking it, and 

besides some idiot thief breaking out the window in our Jeep to steal a bag containing a week's worth of my mother's mail - 

April has been really great so far!

What is "bad" or "good", "worse" or "better"? It's all about "State of Mind".  These are all just occurrences. They are not "good" or "bad" until my mind has labeled it that way. But what then when my mind does not label it at all? 

Decadent Fallen Chocolate Cake

 Fallen Chocolate Cake

The late Richard Sax, celebrated cookbook author and champion of home cooks the world over, inspired this flourless chocolate cake-a riff on his iconic chocolate cloud cake.

Recipe by Alison Roman
8-10 servings

(Copied & pasted from bon appetit)

Ingredients
-Cake 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces, plus more, room temperature, for pan
-3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar, divided, plus more for pan
-10 ounces semisweet or bittersweet chocolate (61%-72% cacao), coarsely chopped
-2 tablespoons vegetable oil
-6 large eggs
-2 tablespoons natural unsweetened cocoa powder
-1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt

Topping
-1 cup chilled heavy cream
-1/2 cup mascarpone
-3 tablespoons powdered sugar



Special Equipment
A 9-inch-diameter springform pan

Preparation
Cake Preheat oven to 350°. Lightly butter springform pan and dust with sugar, tapping out any excess.

Combine chocolate, oil, and 1/2 cup butter in a large heatproof bowl. Set over a saucepan of simmering water and heat, stirring often, until melted. Remove bowl from saucepan.

Separate 4 eggs, placing whites and yolks in separate medium bowls. Add cocoa powder, vanilla, salt, 1/4 cup sugar, and remaining 2 eggs to bowl with yolks and whisk until mixture is smooth. Gradually whisk yolk mixture into chocolate mixture, blending well.

Using an electric mixer on high speed, beat egg whites until frothy. With mixer running, gradually beat in 1/2 cup sugar; beat until firm peaks form.

Gently fold egg whites into chocolate mixture in 2 additions, folding just until incorporated between additions. Scrape batter into prepared pan; smooth top and sprinkle with remaining 2 tablespoons sugar.

Bake until top is puffed and starting to crack and cake is pulling away from edge of pan, 35-45 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and let cake cool completely in pan (cake will collapse in the center and crack further as it cools). DO AHEAD: Cake can be made 1 day ahead. Cover in pan and store airtight at room temperature.

Topping
Using an electric mixer on medium-high speed, beat cream, mascarpone, and powdered sugar in a medium bowl until soft peaks form. Remove sides of springform pan from cake. Mound whipped cream mixture in center of cake.

Cooking tips!

Chow Ciao! with Fabian Viviani: How to peel garlic.  I always enjoy Fabian and this is good info for me since I've recently begun cooking with garlic.