Yep…it’s the hubster, Paul’s, birthday. And you might be wondering about the combo of photos represented here. A pic of a blueberry cake and a truly beaten up old deskplate/sign? What do these two things have to do with Paul’s birthday? I’m gonna tell you! 😉
You might’ve discerned that a cake…and his birthday might not be much of a mystery but that’s where you’re wrong. His mother, Maxine’s trusty recipes are now in our hands and her delicate and yet hefty blueberry pound cake was one of her showstopper desserts. Have I tried to make it in the past? Sure thing. Especially after she passed away fourteen years ago. Having her recipe book is a way of bringing her close to us, especially for a special occasion like her son’s birthday. It’s been a few years, but yesterday I decided to give the recipe a whirl to see if the Universe would collaborate and help me create a pound cake in her bundt pan. A pound cake that lives up to its name…I swear it weighs five pounds.
As you can see, it turned out – literally – came out of the pan and nary a chunk is missing. Flipping that puppy over was a bicep workout and I won’t lie. I said a couple of prayers for good measure…but I don’t think the prayers were needed. Nope. I simply needed to follow dear mother-in-law Maxine’s recipe EXACTLY…including the sifting and what not…and the whole business of coating those enormous blueberries with flour before “gingerly, lovingly” (yep – part of her recipe) folding them into the batter.
In the past? I scoffed at the sifting and “lovingly” folding steps. I just mixed and mixed a little more and the outcome was more of a blueberry crumble than a pound cake. Still tasty, but not very presentation-worthy, especially for a birthday.
Which brings me to the deskplate. Paul’s career in reliability engineering suited him so well. He had plenty of mentors who lauded him for his painstaking attention to detail and his patience. (“The quality goes in before the names goes on” could’ve been Paul’s professional mantra and not just his company’s slogan.)
The deskplate was a gift from his first mentor. Mr. No-Nonsense-All-Day-Every-Day Henry Buschke. Henry had a sweet spot for Paul, despite his gruff and fear-inducing personality. Most young engineers would run as Mr. Buschke approached, but not Paul. He always figured Henry would have something smart to share – an observation about the data and trials Paul was running and I suspect his open demeanor toward Henry solidified their bond. Said more simply? They shared the ideal that fast was never the answer, at least in the electronics biz.
It took me years to understand that Paul’s affinity for his work was deep seeded. He approaches his entire life in that way. Contemplative. Curious. But heaven help you if you need a decision quickly or an appraisal about a problem. You will get an answer and it will probably be the **best** answer, but don’t rush him.
I was reminded of all of that when I gave Maxine’s cake another try – to surprise Paul with one of his mother’s faves for his birthday. Maybe I needed to apply the same principles and do the unthinkable – deploy the same strategy. Follow the steps…slow down the process and the outcome will be better for it.
I doubt Henry’s gift to Paul, the sweet sign with the adage: “The bitterness of poor quality remains long after the sweetness of low price is forgotten” was intended to be a dose of baking wisdom for me, forty some years later. The target must’ve been about electronics and engineering, but the message spoke to me, helping me to slow down in order to be quality minded as I re-read Maxine’s recipe with care.
Finding the little sign on Paul’s workbench gave me a moment to marvel at his friendship with his mentor, Mr. Buschke, encouraging me to “rise” (wink!) to a baking challenge. Take my time, use all the right ingredients and do it right. A sweeter outcome, for sure. And no doubt a message that bears repeating. Thank you, Mr. Buschke…and Happy Birthday, Paul.
Vicki 😊
Victoria Ponders 
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