Oh the memories we old fogey’s have of the cakes at Christmastime. Years ago, they are what most people looked forward to, in part because they didn’t eat cake or other sweets often like today’s society does.

Many folks tell or have told about how special it was. Each homemaker baked up several varieties with southerners loving the Coconut Cakes and all sorts of other flavors, too, including but not limited to: Caramel Cake, Blackberry Jam Cake, Spice, White and the forever after favorite Chocolate.

Families, friends and neighbors gathered from home to home making their rounds and sharing their cakes with a good cup of coffee, often sipped from the saucer—but that’s another story. The children especially looked forward to the cakes and took grand advantage of it, too.

In Appalachia, however, there is one cake in particular that the mere mention of makes mouths water with the knowledge and that something special is about to head your way. It goes by various names. As a child and youth I only heard it referred to as Fruit Cake. Please don’t confuse that name with the usual variety because this one is nothing like a typical fruitcake.

Some call it a Stack Cake but my personal favorite is Gingerbread Stack Cake which describes it much more accurately. It’s not a sickenly sweet dessert and has a very little fat.

My mother made one for both Thanksgiving and Christmas without fail. More than a decade ago, the reins were passed to me. As far as I know in my immediate family there is no one else who has even attempted to make one though they enjoy them, too.

The history of this particular cake dates back centuries—at least four hundred years in the British Isles. Just how far back it really goes is anybody’s guess.

In those days weddings were not the lavish affairs they are today for the common people. In fact, most folks were considered as poor as paupers.

Gingerbread was a grand treat. My mother made a spicy version—not very sweet but it oozed flavor.

When I was a young child, she made me a Gingerbread Boy often. It was enormous but so very tasty with a cold glass of fresh cow’s milk. She merely patted it into a large bread pan and decorated it with raisins.

What a fantastic after school treat. Sugar was always at a premium so anything resembling a sweet was highly anticipated.

The version I grew up with was ‘frosted’ with rehydrated cooked up apples. They were preserved in huge barrels with sulfur. Yes, the sulphur flavor came through but that never deterred anyone. The apples were peeled and sliced and placed in layers in huge wooden barrels. There was a small drain hole at the base of the side for the liquid breaking down to drain off the apples.

The sulphur was evident but it did a fantastic job of preserving apples long term. A small dish was placed on top of the apples, and lit. It smoldered, was covered with a lid and allowed to work its magic.

Kids like me were pests sneaking in to grab a handful of the slices. It was also turned into apple butter.

The cake is moist, more like a torte with lots of thin layers and simply divine to dive into.

Here is the recipe that was handed down through my mother’s family for generations.

It was the custom in the new frontier to celebrate weddings with many layers. The number of layers often determined the popularity of the bride. My preference is mixing apple butter and with applesauce to create a moist dessert.

Gingerbread Stack Cake

1 Cup butter

1 Cup sugar

3 eggs

1 Cup molasses

¾ Cup sour milk

1 teaspoon baking soda dissolved in 2 teaspoons of water

6 Cups or more flour

1 Tablespoon Baking Powder

4 Tablespoons ginger

1 teaspoon cinnamon

½ teaspoon cloves

Cream butter and sugar together. Stir in eggs, then molasses. Add the sour milk, dissolved soda and the dry ingredients. It may require more flour to obtain a very stiff dough.

Grease and flour pans. (We always used 10 inch cast iron skillets. A 9 inch pan will yield 9 to 11 thin layers. Divide the dough and pat with your hand dipped in flour, into a thin layer almost touching the sides of the pan. Bake at 400° for about seven minutes.

Cool slightly and begin stacking and ‘frostin’ with the applesauce mixture. Cover tightly and refrigerate.

You may want to touch up the icing before serving.

“Icing”

6 Cups applesauce

2 Cups applebutter

You may substitute 8 cups applesauce with 3 Tablespoons cinnamon, 1 teaspoon nutmeg and 1 teaspoon ground cloves.

Be sure to refrigerate.

— Hill describes herself as a cook and cookbook author, jack of all trades and master of none, a Christian wife, mother, grandmother and great-grandmother.