An entire holiday about cake! What’s not to like? But what is this holiday, and why is it about cake?

If you are a Lokean and also Tumblr user, you know this story. Everyone else, gather ‘round to learn the Sponge Cake Lore!

Waaaay back in the simpler times of 2012, a devoted Lokean on Tumblr posted a photo of their offering to Loki—a prepackaged sponge cake with strawberries and whipped cream. Knowing what I know of Loki, this is a 100% Great Idea. I mean, assuming you are not allergic to one of those items, sponge cake with strawberries and whipped cream is an absolutely luxurious delight!

Unless, of course, you are a Terminally Online Absolutist Reconstructionist. Then, this offering would be “inadequate”, “insulting”, and “blasphemous”, among other terms thrown about in response to the post. People were outraged because, “The Vikings didn’t have strawberries!” Well, maybe not in Iceland, but you know they happily ate strawberries when they encountered them in other lands.

Being an online forum, the debate raged for a good 24 hours, until everyone had had enough, and the conversation dropped—until the next September, when several people reblogged the original post, along with their own version of a sponge cake offering, and/or recipes for sponge cake. The tradition is now well-established, and if you are a cake baker, September 5 is a great day on Tumblr to collect new recipes! I have almost 20 that I have saved and not yet had a chance to try.

The original post was made late on September 4 in the Pacific Time Zone (USA), and the discussion blazed for most of September 5. This is why some people celebrate on one day or the other, or both! Both is good. Most people seem to go for September 5, and compose memes using variants of the verse used in the UK for Guy Fawkes Day—“Remember, remember, the fifth of September,/ The Sponge Cake argument brought./ I know of no reason why the Sponge Cake Day/Should ever be forgot!”

In 2017, the post author created a post on their new Tumblr blog with some background on the offering [https://tinyurl.com/spongecake1]. At the time of the original post, their family had been going through extreme financial difficulties, and the sponge cake and fruit were a rare and unexpected treat. However, instead of devouring the entire thing, they decided to share it with Loki, an offering of “rare, precious deeply loved things. Things I wanted, on instinct to hoard for myself. I was hungry . . .I couldn’t think of anything that might mean more to Loki, aside from the fact that it’s, well, cake. Come on. He loves His cake.”

In 2020, they posted an update [https://tinyurl.com/spongecakethoughts] in which they encourage people to consider donating to “a legit charity that helps families facing food insecurity and making a donation when SpongeCake Day comes around. . . . (This would be in edition [sic] to tomfoolery and cake, naturally.)”

This practice has now been incorporated into the holiday as well, for those who have the means.

For Idunna #130, the Loki-themed issue, I had intended to include a sponge cake recipe, but we received a staggering number of article submissions [Editor’s Note: it would be great if this happened again, hint, hint], and we did not have enough space. In preparation for that, I tried seven—yes, seven—sponge cake recipes, and my patient spouse dutifully (and delightedly) tried each one. My favorite version, created by combining steps from some of the original seven recipes, follows below.

For our gluten-free members, I have heard good things about the King Arthur Flour recipe, although I have not tried it. You can find it at https://tinyurl.com/glutenfreespongecake.

For our vegan friends, this recipe comes recommended (again, I have not tried it): https://tinyurl.com/veganspongecake

Hot Milk Sponge Cake

Makes one 9” x 13” cake, or 24 cupcakes.

You want to treat the batter gently, so that it retains all the air incorporated in the making to become light and fluffy in the baking.

Ingredients
2 cups (397g) granulated sugar
4 large eggs, at room temperature
1/3 cup (67g) vegetable oil or canola oil
2 cups (240g) Unbleached All-Purpose Flour
1 1/4 teaspoons table salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
4 tablespoons (57g) unsalted butter
1 cup (227g) milk, (whole milk works best; sadly, non-dairy milks do not work at all)
2 teaspoons Vanilla Extract

Instructions
1. Preheat the oven to 325°F.
2. Lightly grease a 9″ x 13″ baking pan and set aside.
3. Separate the eggs. Beat the egg whites at medium-high to high speed until they are so fluffy, you might expire from the cuteness. (About 2 minutes).
4. Beat the egg yolks and sugar together until they are also light and fluffy, about 2 minutes at medium-high speed.
5, Sloooooowly beat in the canola oil.
6. Mix the flour, salt, and baking powder together.
7. Add the dry ingredients to the egg yolk mixture, beating just enough to combine. It should be thorough enough to incorporate any sticky bits and remove blobs, but do not overbeat.
8. Gently, gently, gently, fold the beaten egg whites into the mixture. I prefer to do this step by hand, rather than using an electric mixer.
9. In a saucepan set over medium heat, heat the butter and milk just to the very beginning of a boil. Do not actually boil it. It’s okay if the butter is not completely melted.
10. Remove the pan from the heat, add the vanilla, and gently stir the mixture until the butter is completely melted.
11. Slowly add the hot milk mixture to the cake batter, mixing until everything is well combined and smooth. Again, I prefer to do this by hand, rather than using an electric mixer, so I can stop the instant it’s perfect.
12. Pour the batter into the prepared pan.
13. Bake the cake for 40 to 45 minutes, cupcakes for 20 to 25 minutes. Rotate halfway through baking to keep the layer even.
14. The cake is done when a toothpick or thin knife inserted into the center comes out clean, and the top feels set.
15. Remove the cake from the oven, and place it on a rack to cool.

You can serve as-is, or add your favorite icing or sauce. I am happy to cover it in freshly whipped cream and as many berries as will fit in the dish:

If you want a fancy finish, lay a paper doily (actual lace isn’t stiff enough for this, and you’d have to wash it to remove the sugar) on top of the cake, and sprinkle with powdered sugar dyed with food coloring. Carefully remove the doily, and voila—a pretty pattern on the cake!

You could also cut a pattern into a sheet of regular paper and do the same—names, symbols, runes, abstract geometric shapes—whatever makes you happy, and charges your cake with the meaning you want it to have.

Because the universe has an interesting sense of humor, I have a soundtrack of exploding fireworks to accompany my reading of the news that the US has joined the attack on Iran.

This is taking me right back to January 1991. We had all been on edge since Operation Desert Shield, a cooperative effort of 42 countries, began in August 1990. It was clear that it was not a going to remain a protective stance, and would lead to war (despite the fact that it is listed only as “an armed conflict” and not a “war” in US military history).

On January 17, 1991, Operation Desert Storm began, a military action to free Kuwait from the invasion and takeover by Iraq.

My friends and I were calling each other to check in (email was not A Thing then, much less social media or online messaging). “Are you okay?” “Do you have anyone deployed?” “What do you need right now?”

The US attack on Iran today is nothing like that. It is not done in coordination with our allies. It is not to check the ambitions of a would-be tyrant and restore sovereignty to a nation.

It is a blatant attack on a country that was not in violation of its treaty. It is a sop to Trump’s ego and an attempt to further fray the people. It is homage to Putin, and the manifestation of his plans. It is horrifying in every aspect.

My friends and I are checking on each other—mostly text messages. “Are you okay?” “Do you have anyone deployed?” “What do you need right now?”

And this is what we do as we face One More Damn Thing in a year that has brought us Too Many Damn Things already.

We still have to get up each day. Make breakfast, feed our children and keep them healthy and safe, tend to our pets and plants, go to our jobs (or look for a job, which is also a job), do laundry, have the car’s oil changed, pay bills, and also take time for our own self-care, from brushing our teeth, exercising, and taking our meds to meditating and making necessary behavioral changes. Everyday life is a lot, already.

And now we have this work of trying to have a life during a war. All of those things still need to happen, and there’s a war lurking in the backs of our heads, and displayed in large type in the front of the news.

There’s fear, uncertainty, dread, and the frustration and anger at living in circumstances we can’t control, but to which we must adapt.

What do we do?

We protest this war as best we can. Some people can write letters, make phone calls, write speeches. Other people can be in the corridors of government. Others can be out on the streets. And some protest by getting up every day and getting through the day, in spite of it all. What you can do will vary each day, and there is no judgment on you for that—it’s true for all of us.

And we protect each other as best we can.

We check on each other.

We care for each other.

We stay in communication. We stay in community.

We do our best to take care of ourselves, so we can take care of each other.

We make bread. We make art. We make time for what matters.

We make it through, day by day, hour by hour. By the minute, or by the second, if that’s what it takes.

So, I am asking you now: “Are you okay?” “Do you have anyone deployed?” “What do you need right now?”

Carrefour
~ Amy Lowell

O You,
Who came upon me once
Stretched under apple-trees just after bathing,
Why did you not strangle me before speaking
Rather than fill me with the wild white honey of your words
And then leave me to the mercy
Of the forest bees.

In honor of Earth Day, a poem about kindness.

Kindness to Animals
by An Unknown Author         

Little children, never give
Pain to things that feel and live:
Let the gentle robin come
For the crumbs you save at home,—
As his meat you throw along
He’ll repay you with a song;
Never hurt the timid hare
Peeping from her green grass lair,
Let her come and sport and play
On the lawn at close of day;
The little lark goes soaring high
To the bright windows of the sky,
Singing as if ’twere always spring,
And fluttering on an untired wing,—
Oh! let him sing his happy song,
Nor do these gentle creatures wrong.

This poem is in the public domain. It has been around for decades, but no author has ever been identified.