This is a Facebook find from 12 Tomatoes that has been a huge hit with the family and community. It is easy and quick to throw together and is the perfect coffee cake! It is a cake that will have them coming back for seconds and trust me, if you get home with any leftovers you will relish the moment you can sit quietly and take in the moist, smooth flavors of this simple yet luscious cake.
Cake Ingredients
1 ½ cups sugar
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
2 large eggs, slightly beaten
1 (20 oz.) can crushed pineapple, WITH juice
1 to 1 ½ cups brown sugar
Icing:
1 cup evaporated milk
½ cup sugar
½ cup (1 stick) butter
1 tsp vanilla
Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees and lightly grease a 9×13-inch baking dish with cooking spray.
In a large bowl, begin making the cake by whisking together the sugar, flour, baking soda and salt. Add the eggs and crushed pineapple (along with the juice) and stir until well mixed. Pour the batter into your baking pan and top with an even layer of brown sugar. Place the baking dish in the oven and bake for 40-45 minutes.
Before the cake is finished baking begin making the icing by combining the evaporated milk, sugar, and butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla, then pour over the hot cake after it has finished baking and has been removed from the oven.
Let the cake cool about an hour or two so it absorbs all of the icing, then enjoy!
NOTES: It may seem like you have an abundance of icing when you’re pouring it over the cake. Pour it all on as that is what helps to make this cake so delicious and the cake will soak it up like a sponge. Refrigerate leftovers (if there are any leftovers).
These are a “melt in your mouth” wonder that will be a hit at the table! The dough recipe I used is my Rise While You Sleep Overnight Dinner Rolls, which was perfect for having warm rolls at the morning coffee table, however they could also be easily made with my Sweet Dough (Cinnamon Rolls) recipe if you wanted a later-in-the-day serving.
Ingredients for the Topping:
2 cups packed brown sugar
½ cup butter
½ cup milk
1 cup chopped pecans
Combine the brown sugar, butter, and milk in a saucepan and bring to a boil, stirring often. Pour evenly into two greased 9×13 inch baking pans. Sprinkle the pecans evenly over the caramel sauce and set aside.
Ingredients for the filling:
Butter (softened)
Brown Sugar
Granulated Sugar (white sugar)
Cinnamon
Preparing the Rolls:
Turn the dough onto a floured board and lightly knead until smooth. Divide in half, setting one half aside while you work with the other half. Roll the dough into a 12×15 inch rectangle (as well as you can, mine always look more like ovals). Top the dough with a generous layer of butter, brown sugar, granulated sugar, and cinnamon. Starting with the long edge, roll up the dough from one side to the other, pinch seams and turn ends under. Cut the roll into 12 one-inch slices (you may get more than twelve so have a small baking pan ready for the extra rolls and/or ends). Place each of the slices, cut side down, into the baking pan. Each pan should easily hold 12 rolls. Repeat for the other half of the dough to fill the second pan, then cover the rolls and let rise in a warm place until they have doubled in size, about 30-45 minutes.
Bake at 375 degrees for 20-25 minutes or until golden brown. Let them cool for 2-3 minutes before inverting them onto a serving platter (I use a cookie sheet covered with aluminum foil as it is larger than the baking dish and makes it easier to flip the pans, plus the foil makes clean-up a cinch!) Enjoy!
I have a table in my home that is quite possibly 100-years-old. My grandmother owned it before my mother and it was passed down to me nearly thirty years ago. In fact, I think my great-grandmother owned it before my grandmother so it’s been an important part of our family for several generations. This solid oak table folds down to a 40” square spaciously seating four, however you can seat nearly thirty people around it when you add all the leaves.
Christmas is what I remember most about the table. Growing up, we anticipated the arrival of aunts and uncles, grandmas and grandpas, and other guests. A lot of work went into setting the table. White linens were pulled out of drawers for covering. Never would one tablecloth do the trick so you had to get linens that were similar and layer them. Handmade centerpieces and candles were added. The fine china and stemware were taken out of their protective display cabinets and gently placed at each setting. The silver came out which had been polished days before, and cloth napkins were beautifully folded and added as a finishing touch. It was a masterpiece!
Anything appearing out of place was gently nudged as we awaited the arrival of family, and first conversations often focused upon the beauty of the table. Once everyone was present and the food was ready, dad would carry out the honor of assigning seats. You did not sit at the table until dad had invited you to be seated at the place he had chosen for you. The Christmas table was a heartwarming place that had an impact on us even as young children. We looked forward to each year as it was always the center of where we would fellowship with one another before getting into the gift exchanges and visiting.
Now don’t think it was all so sentimental and serious. There were some spectacular food tossing moments between my siblings and I and some of their offspring. Grandmothers would gasp as ham pieces flying down the length of the table cozied up to a mound of mashed potatoes and gravy. Food tossing became a work of art and was never to exceed the rim of the plate at any time. Trust me when I proclaim tossing fresh baked rolls across the room happened in homes long before it became popular at Lambert’s Café!
The table was the one aspect of Christmas that brought us together to celebrate. A lot of things would vie for our attention throughout the year, but the Christmas table always called us home. We don’t celebrate as an extended family around the table any more. After my dad passed away, life changed our family dynamics. My brothers were married with children of their own so the first Christmas without dad was celebrated in individual homes. My mom and oldest brother had a quiet Christmas Eve dinner at a lovely little lodge in Green Mountain Falls. We just couldn’t bring ourselves to gather around the table without Dad. Since then, new traditions have come about but never has it been like those spent around the Christmas table.
It’s not often I get into a snowball fight and this was one I knew I was going to lose from the start, but I didn’t care. I was having the time of my life in a magical moment with God.
Living life at the foothills of the majestic Pikes Peak offers many picturesque moments and this morning was no exception. I awoke to a bountiful spring snow that left everything blanketed in layers of white. Snows arriving in the spring come quickly and depart just as fast, leaving behind feet rather than inches to measure. As the storm passes, the sun comes out with all of its brightness and the earth awakens to its warmth. It doesn’t take long before the snow becomes slush and streams of water roll everywhere.
Having to be at the office, I braved the streets and maneuvered my way through the morning traffic. I took a side road – one that I traveled often because it was rather enchanting. The trees on each side of the street were older and tall, and the branches hung high above the street to create an archway to pass under. There was an aura of pomp and circumstance as you drove down through it. That morning, the branches bowed low as the new snow laid heavily upon them.
Traveling along, I was startled by a loud noise. Something had hit the roof of my car. I was utterly caught off guard and ducked down in response. Just as I was gathering my thoughts and sitting back up behind the steering wheel, I was hit again. As I looked around to see if there was someone throwing something at me, a huge, white ball of snow came directly at my windshield. Splat! Natural instinct forced me to duck down in order to protect myself. Snowballs kept coming, one more rapidly than the other. I was taken aback at how many times I was getting hit, although I had convinced myself that ducking down each time was not a safe driving technique. The further I drove, the harder I got hit. Not seeing anyone else around, I yelled up to God, “You know, Lord, it’s not fair to start a snowball fight with someone when they can’t even throw one back!” The snow continued to roll off the branches as I passed by, and as I came to the end of the street, I could no longer hold back the laughter or the joy of getting into a snowball fight with God on my way to work.
There are many storms that come our way while we journey through life. Some come and go, others will come and stay for a while. Some will quickly leave an impression upon our hearts, showing us the beauty of the Lord like a rainbow after a thunderstorm. Others will linger and cause us to question God’s presence or his attentiveness to all that is happening around us.
The period of time prior to the snowball fight had been a very trying time. Many changes were taking place, adjustments were having to be made, and my stress level was rising to an all time high. I knew God would not leave me, but the weight of my own personal storm was causing great grief. Tears often fell as prayers seemed unanswered.
Psalm 30:5 says, “For his anger is but for a moment; his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning” (NRSV). In spite of all that was happening in my life, joy had come to me that morning, without warning, and straight from the heavens. All of the cares that I had been carrying rolled off my shoulders, just like the snow falling off the branches as I passed by, and my heart was filled with joy. It took a snowball fight, but God finally had my attention.
Since that time, there have been many storms and God has woven his peace in and around many of them. Some gave new insight and compassion to help others who are going through similar situations. Some just delivered their brutal devastating blows and moved on, leaving only pain and sorrow. Some brought blessings in disguise. But no matter the storm, this I know. When you least expect it, God will show himself, even if it comes through a one-sided snowball fight.
“Never before had there been such a plague of locusts, nor will there ever be again” (Exodus 10:14b, NIV).
Unprecedented times. This is a phrase that has been used over and over and over these past few weeks regarding the COVID-19 pandemic. I have heard it on news channels and read it in news briefs and updates. It comes out in emails and letters as a preparatory statement for the changes that are being expressed in the paragraphs that follow. I opened a letter this morning regarding a church event and there within the first sentence were the words “unprecedented times.” I thought to myself, “I am so tired of hearing this phrase,” and yet I was caught by surprise when a gentle voice spoke back to me, “There was another time that was ‘unprecedented.’”
My thoughts quickly turned to Jesus. His entire life was “unprecedented.” A virgin birth, teaching in the temple at age 12, the calling of 12 disciples, teachings and healings among the crowds, miracles that left people dumbfounded, false accusations and betrayal, sentenced to die on a cross innocent of any wrongdoing, yet taking on that sentence because he was the sacrificial lamb for all sin. His death, his burial, his resurrection, his revealing of himself after he was alive again, his ascension into heaven, his promise of and the Father’s sending of the Holy Spirit, and his continued involvement in humanity yet today – all of it– unprecedented. God’s work through creation and in the lives of his people before Jesus came was/is unprecedented. Even as I write this, I realize there is another day and time that will be unprecedented, and that is when our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ returns to claim his bride (the church).
This morning I have been challenged to take something that seemed monotonous and annoying, and see it in a new light. I have also been made aware that these times are not the only unprecedented times, for we have the testimony of Jesus’ life through the written and Holy Word of God, and the knowledge of his promises that are yet to come. Glory be to God!
“Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account” (Hebrews 4:13, NIV).
As I’ve recently traveled the country roads and get a glimpse of the bare trees, the question comes to mind, “What would God see if I stood bare before him as these trees do?” I’ve pondered their sturdiness, yet I also see their brokenness. I’ve thought of how some branches have remained strong and upward, and some have gone various directions while others have been completely broken off midstream. Some seem to have a more perfect shape than others. Some appear to have gone through many battles, yet still remain standing. For some, there is nothing left but a stump.
When I come before the Lord, bearing my soul to him, what does he see when he gazes upon me? Does he see my strengths and my beauty? Does he recognize the brokenness? When life was going full steam ahead and suddenly came to an abrupt and unexpected halt, does he see the pain in my branches that were suddenly ended? Do those branches that wind around and bend awkwardly represent the times I’ve had to awkwardly bend to the circumstances around me in order to continue to flourish? What about the tree that looks more like a bushy hot mess? Does that represent the goodness of a full life filled with many blessings, or does it represent a life that is overwhelmed and burdened? Has life been such that I’ve simply become a stump with young branches popping up around me signaling some sense that life still exists?
According to Hebrews 4:13, nothing is hidden from God’s sight; therefore, he sees it all: “the good, the bad, and the ugly.” Everything in our life is laid bare before him, whether we acknowledge him or not. We cannot hide it, and we mustn’t try to hide it, for we are accountable for it. I think of the moment I came to the altar of prayer and laid my heart out before the Lord, how he took me into his arms and has never let me go. When I look at these trees, I am reminded that even though they have been through much, they have stood the test of time and still reach up to the heavens, offering to their Creator their praise. And then I ask myself, “When I stand ‘uncovered and bare’ before the Lord, do I lift up my praise to him, or do I just see my nakedness?”
“When they reached the threshing floor of Atad, near the Jordan, they lamented loudly and bitterly; and there Joseph observed a seven-day period of mourning for his father” (Exodus 50:10, NIV).
Our world is lamenting today for many reasons, but the one most vivid is the loss of George Floyd and how his life was drained out of him. I have not watched the videos, nor do I care to as I don’t need to see them to know that evil was at play. It is gut wrenching to see photos and hear of what has happened, and my deepest prayer is that justice will be served on his behalf, and God will bring peace to the hearts and minds of his family.
Lamenting is a natural response to loss. It is a way to express our sorrow and the brokenness we feel inside when we don’t know what else to do. Our emotions are overrun with grief and our hearts scream out without understanding the depths of sorrow we feel inside. It is okay to lament and grieve. God gave us the gift of lamenting.
We have a right to express our grief. We have a right to cry out and seek justice. We have a right to stand and demand that answers be given when such an injustice has been done. We have a right to protest and speak for those whose voices are wrongfully silenced. Yet, when we break out into riots and begin to destroy public and personal property of others, it’s no longer a right. Looting to benefit self only, without any remorse for the injustice that was done is not protesting, it’s theft. Setting businesses and public buildings on fire out of anger and hatred is not lamenting the injustice of this man, it’s committing arson. While I understand the grief that Mr. Floyd’s family (and families like his) feel, I will never understand the riots, although I do understand what they reveal.
Our nation is lost in the deepest, darkest crevices of sin and evil. It is sin in a man’s heart that causes him to be unwilling to move a knee to allow a man to breathe. It is deep-rooted sin that allows us to show injustice and racism toward one another. It is sin that causes us to become destructive and evil in our response.
As I viewed the photos of the National Guard standing in the gap to bring order into the cities, I was reminded of how Moses had to come back down from the mountain to bring order to the people of Israel, and how we as Christians are called to rise up like an army and stand in the gap for our nation. Racism is sin. Let us, as Christians, humble ourselves and come before the Lord on behalf of our nation. For God has promised in 2 Chronicles 7:14, “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”
