But Carrot Cake's pulse eventually slowed, and he smiled at his son. "So, you want to learn the family recipe, hm?" He wore a sly smirk and gave his chin a showy rub. "I don't know… Do you really think you're ready for it?"
"Uh… Yeah! Uh-huh!" Pound Cake announced from the spotless kitchen floor, puffing up his cream-colored chest the way he so often did these days. Though his head only came up to Carrot's gangly, yellow knees, he seemed taller every time Carrot looked at him. "I'm ready, daddy!" His wings began buzzing with excitement, and his rump lifted a few inches off the ground, causing him to stumble.
Carrot took a deep breath and thought to himself, 'It'll be okay. I'll be okay. I didn't even faint. See? Already off to a good start, and I remember everything Dad told me. I'll be okay… I hope.' He gulped and forced a smile. "Well, all right, my little doughnut."
"Daddy," Pound whined, frowning. "I'm not little!"
Carrot chuckled and put a hoof over his chest. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry," he said in a big, showy voice. He pet Pound's scruffy, brown mane. "I meant my big, strong, jelly-filled doughnut."
Pound gave a stiff nod and flared out his wings. "Yeah. That's good."
"I'm glad, Pound." Carrot set his hoof down. "Now, you wait right here while I get everything ready."
Carrot looked around the kitchen in Sugarcube Corner. Because it was a Saturday, they'd closed at noon, and he'd nearly finished cleaning up. The auto-magic mixers had been put away into one of the dozens of pink-painted wooden cabinets, every trace of flour had been meticulously wiped from granite countertops, and the tile floors were clean enough to eat off of. The gem lamps and the picture on the walls had been dusted that morning, too, and buttercream-colored walls were spotless. Only a few bowls remained in the sink, and while Carrot and his wife and business partner Cup had a policy of cleaning everything before starting a new project, Carrot figured he could make an exception just this once. Cup and their daughter Pumpkin were off at magic lessons, and Carrot thought, 'Stallions are allowed to be a little messy, right?'
Carrot walked over to the pantry and opened it wide. "Let's see," he mumbled to himself. "How… did it all go again?" The tightness in his chest came back, and he couldn't remember the last time such simple ingredients had made him feel so small. This wasn't a normal recipe, though. He felt a bead of sweat run down his face, and his lip quivered just a bit. He felt a slight queasiness in his stomach, and it took him several deep breaths before he could focus on the pantry again.
Inside were containers for all kinds of flour: white, wheat, gluten-free, all purpose, enriched, and more than any non-baker would ever care to see. "Well, this is as good a place to start as any." He pulled out two different kinds of flour and set the porcelain containers on the floor for Pound to see.
Pound eyed them suspiciously. These containers were smaller than the others, labeled with nothing but a picture of a carrot on one and a cupcake on the other. "Daddy, why are you getting the special blends?" His ears stood straight up, and a smile broke on his face. He quickly said, "Are we making a cake?"
Carrot nodded. "We certainly are, Sopaipilla. A carrot cake, even."
Pound's head cocked to side. "Why?"
"Well, Pound, it's a complicated recipe, and I need to make sure I teach it to you right."
Pound's head rolled to the other side. "But… I don't get it. Why's that?"
Carrot smiled. "Because, Pound, it's tradition." He gestured at a picture of the Cake family from the most recent reunion. "It was passed down to me by your grandpa Short, and it was passed down to him by my grandpa Chocolate Lava, and, well, it's been in family for as long as the Cakes have been Cakes!"
Pound examined the porcelain containers more closely. They were still almost full, and he felt a funny tingle in his stomach. He figured that if daddy was using the good stuff, then whatever it was must be really, really important to him. "Wow."
Carrot chuckled. "Ha! Sounds like you're starting to understand, Ginger Snap."
Pound raised an eyebrow and looked at his father. "But… you said the recipe's real old. Did Grandpa Short have your special flour, too?"
Carrot retrieved the mixing bowl and set it on the kitchen table with a loud thud. "Not exactly, son. Ya' see, it's important that you put a little of yourself into the recipe. It's never the same from generation to generation, and that's what makes it special!"
Pound lifted the lid off the flour container marked with the carrot. He stuck his face in, and his voice echoed off the sides. "Mommy says you need cuh-sist-uh-see for baking stuff." He pulled his head out, and a little flour stuck to his nose.
Carrot grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped Pound's nose clean. "Well, that's usually true, but this one's special. Now, I can't make it exactly right without your mother's help, but I bet I can get pretty close."
Carefully, Carrot grabbed the flour containers and set them on the large, wooden kitchen table next to the bowl. He stuck out his lower lip and quickly shifted his eyes left and right before winking and whispering to Pound, "Hop on up and we'll make this together."
Pound's eyes lit up. "Really? I can stand on the table?" His ears drooped. "You promise you won't get mad?"
Carrot nodded. "It'll be our little secret, okay, Cocoa Nib?"
Pound nodded frantically up and down. "Uh-huh!" He squirmed onto the chair, then threw this forehooves onto the table. Grunting, he tried to pull himself up. "I just… gotta… unf!" he said, straining.
Carrot reached out a hoof. "Why don't you let me help out, my little–"
He was interrupted but the sudden flitter of tiny wings. Pound's face turned from pink to red. "Hnnng…" Pound's lips quivered. His forelegs shook. He sucked in a quick breath, but his wings beat even harder. "Gah!" With a final lift and some wild flicking of his hind legs, he tumbled onto the table. "Woah!" He toppled end over end, knocking the container of flour onto his face and scattering it everywhere.
Pound sat up immediately and looked straight at his father. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm… uh…" He raised an eyebrow and pointed at Carrot. "You okay, daddy?"
Carrots eyes stung, and his vision was blurry. His voice was a little choked when he said, "Oh, I'm just fine, son." He blinked away a small tear and cleared his throat. "Let's get our ingredients and play the name game. Sound like fun?"
"Yay!"
Carrot grabbed several more ingredients from the cupboards and the ice box and brought them to the nearest counter. He arranged everything meticulously, so that Pound could clearly see what everything was. Even if Pound was too young to read grown-up cookbooks by himself, he recognized each of the ingredients. One by one, he named everything that Carrot had set out.
"And… baking powder!" he said with a triumphant grin.
Carrot gave him a small noogie. "Very good, Shortbread." He took a deep breath in and out, and he had a small laugh when Pound did the same. "So, we have all the ingredients, and that…" He paused, looking at his son with soft eyes. "That means we're ready to start."
There was a beat.
Pound shrunk a little bit and looked around. "Uh… okay?"
Carrot leaned in and gave Pound a kiss on the forehead. "I love you, son."
Pound blew little wisps of mane out of his face. "I love you, too, Daddy. Did I do something wrong?"
Carrot bopped Pound lightly on the nose. "You're doing everything right. I'm the one that needs to make sure I don't mess anything up. I just, well…" Carrot looked at a picture on the wall. It was the photo they'd taken right after Cup had told him she was pregnant and Carrot had regained consciousness. The bruise on that Carrot's forehead was hard to ignore. "I've been dreaming about teaching you the recipe since before you were born, and now…" He looked back to his son. "Now it's just hard to believe that it's happening, and it's a little strange being the one in charge."
Carrot thought back to his own days as a colt, and he remembered Short Cake's lesson vividly. It had been a Saturday morning in early April. Carrot had woken up with the sunrise, and even though his father Short had promised to make pancakes, Carrot's curiosity had taken the morning in a very different direction. Carrot had listened with wide eyes as Short spent over an hour going through every little detail, tasking his son with remembering everything.
He had.
Carrot blinked a few times and turned back to his own kitchen. Yes, he shared it with his wife Cup Cake, but today, he told himself, it was his, and he had to pass this test alone.
He grabbed a few of the ingredients and moved them to the table, setting them down next to the small pegasus. "Now, it's very, very important that you pay close attention, Pound Cake."
Pound sat up. It was rare for Carrot to use his full name, especially if he wasn't angry.
Carrot pulled up a chair and sat down. "Everything I'm going to tell you is very important. You might not understand why that is right now, but believe me when I say that this is the biggest lesson I'll ever teach you."
Pound's wings drooped. His eyes went wide, and he frowned.
Carrot snapped to attention and waved a hoof, words spilling out of his mouth. "N-not that I expect you to remember it all right away! I-It's very complicated, a-and it takes practice – well, not that you get that much practice – but you, uh… a-and… oh, dear." Carrot felt sweat bead on his forehead again. Biting his lower lip, he closed his eyes. He thought back to how Short had done it, how he had seemed so sure of himself and had truly impressed Carrot with the gravity of his words. Carrot's memory was all so clear: Short's square jaw, his loving smile, how big he looked at the time (even if he really lived up to his name), and Carrot remembered how nervous he'd felt being in Pound's position. But more than that, he remembered his father's warmth and patience and the way he slowly explained every step of the recipe, making sure Carrot understood.
Carrot's heart thumped loud enough that he was sure Pound would hear it. Sure, he remembered the recipe word-for-word, but what is a recipe without execution? He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and calmly said, "I believe in you, Pound Cake."
Pound's wings raised a little bit, and he leaned in, looking into the mixing bowl.
Carrot took one more moment to collect himself, then opened the carton of eggs and took one out. "Now, son, do you know what this is?"
Pound looked up and crinkled his nose. "Uh… it's an egg. I said that, remember?"
Carrot smiled. "You're half-right. See, it's not just an egg. It's the part holds everything together." He cracked the egg into the mixing bowl, discarding the shell. "A lot can happen to a little cake, and it's important to stay strong and keep from falling apart, especially when the heat kicks in. The recipe wouldn't be very good if it fell apart at the first sign of trouble, would it?"
Pound stuck his lower jaw out and thought a moment. "Oh. Right!"
"Exactly." He cracked another egg into the bowl. "You see, when your mother and I first met, your grandmother didn't like me very much."
Pound's eyes widened. "Did you make Grandma Strudel mad?" He gasped. "Did she yell at you?"
"Not exactly." Carrot broke two more eggs into the bowl. "See, at the time, I didn't have my own shop. I was still an apprentice, and Grandma Strudel thought your mother should marry somepony that was already well-established. She even told me as such the first time I had dinner with her family. We didn't give in, though. We showed her how much we loved each other, and in the end, she was the first one to bless our marriage after I proposed. Even when it was tough, Cup and I stuck together. Do you understand, Pound?"
Pound nodded. "Yeah! You gotta be tough!"
Carrot's heart fluttered. 'So far, so good,' he thought.
Carrot tossed the eggshells into the trash and grabbed the vegetable oil. "A little resilience is good, but cakes can't be too rigid, either." He measured out one and a quarter cups of oil and added it to the mixing bowl. "They need adaptability and flow. Sometimes, things won't turn out the way you want to, and you need to realize that it's okay."
Pound looked back over at the front counter. "Like… when Pinkie accidently ate all the Double-Layer Ultra Fudge Cupcakes right before the big party… thingy for… that unicorn guy's coltfriend's party?"
"Exactly like that." Carrot set down the measuring cup. "We panicked for a few minutes, but then we remembered that Fancy Pants loved the Rose Red Velvet Garden Cupcakes we'd made for him the last time we'd catered. We still had a couple dozen left from the morning, so we made a small batch of Double-Layer Ultra Fudge and substituted the rest. Turns out, they were a hit! And all it took was being able to go with the flow. Do you understand, Pound?"
Pound smiled and nodded. "I do!"
Carrot narrowed his eyes. "So… can you tell me what it means?"
Pound sat up. He gestured with a hoof and said, "It mean ya' hafta…" He wiggled around a little, and his face scrunched up. "Ya' hafta change some stuff sometimes. You can't always plan."
"Very good, son." Carrot wiped some sweat from his forehead. His heart was still pounding. 'Keep it together, Carrot. For him.' When he saw the gleaming look in Pound's eyes, the way he was hanging on every word and trying to pay as much attention as his little brain could, Carrot felt a fire burn inside his chest, and he thought to himself, 'I won't let you down, son.'
With a quick hoof, he took the cover off the butter dish. "Now, the next thing you need is hard work and planning."
"What?" Pound giggled. "Butter isn't hard!"
Carrot suddenly felt light-headed. He gulped and, for a moment, wondered if he'd forgotten something. He reassured himself, though, that he was on the right track. "Well, do you remember that day we went to Sweet Apple Acres for Family Farm Fun Day?"
Pound nodded.
"And remember how hard it was to churn the butter?"
Pound rubbed one foreleg with a hoof and quietly said, "Oh. Yeah."
"If we didn't plan ahead and do the hard work beforehand, then we wouldn't be able to reap the benefits later. Without all that churning, there'd be no butter! Besides," he said, dipping the end of his hoof into the butter and extending it to his son. "Hard work can be pretty satisfying, too."
Pound looked at Carrot's hoof, then leaned in and gave the butter a lick. He smacked his lips, and his eyes went wide before he wrapped his mouth around Carrot's hoof and started suckling on it like a newborn.
Carrot chuckled, fascinated by how foals could always eat it straight. He remembered doing the same thing with Short so many years ago. Of course, he'd asked for–
"Can I have more, Daddy? It's really good."
Carrot grabbed a dish towel and cleaned his hoof. "Remember what I just said about planning? What happens to the cake if we eat all the butter now?"
Pound's head rolled to the side. "We won't get any cake. Okay, I get it."
"Very good." Carrot added the butter to the bowl and said, "So, there's still a lot that needs to go in. How are you feeling, Sugar Cookie?"
Pound licked his lips. "Hungry. Can we keep going?"
Carrot smiled. "Of course we can, son."
Carrot added the vanilla next. As he did, he told the story of how he and Cup had once camped outside under the stars. "It might have been cold out, but we kept each other warm, and in the quiet, we could hear each other's hearts beat. Sometimes, you need to appreciate the mellow moments in life, because they can be the most flavorful."
He poured the sugar into the bowl, telling the enraptured Pound about Carrot and Cup's first Hearts and Hooves Day. "I treated your mother to a night on the town all around Ponyville. I even rented a suit, parted my mane in the center, and got us a table at the fanciest restaurant in town. Of course, I didn't have quite enough bits to cover the check, but Cup was there for me. She said it was the nicest date she'd ever had, and that I'd given her the sweetest gift I could just by trying. Cakes need those sweet moments. They're the ones we remember our entire lives."
He added the pecans next. "Back before your Grandma Strudel had come around, I would sneak into Cup's room late at night, just so we could be together. I had to crawl through the prickly rose bushes, climb up a trellis that gave my hooves splinters, and dangle from a gutter that came unhinged more than once. And you know what? Getting caught and having a frying pan thrown at my head was worth it. I love your mother so much, it's okay to be a little nutty. Our relationship is never dull – it always has texture, and we find ways to be crazy and fun to this day."
Carrot added the baking powder and baking soda. "And it takes gentleness, too. I'm sorry to say, but even Cup and I have disagreements sometimes, and early on, we didn't know how badly we could hurt each other with just our words. Why, during the wedding planning, we almost called the whole thing off! After we'd taken time to reflect on it, though, we remembered what was important, and the wedding went off without a hitch. Well, just one hitch, of course. Over time, we learned how to be gentle with one another, and all our burdens are lighter because of it."
He measured out equal parts of his and his wife's special flour blends and poured them in. "Of course, it's the ponies themselves that make everything work, both independently and together. Cup has the patience to pipe frosting onto a cake like nopony else can, and I can balance sweet and savory better than anypony in Equestria. But it takes both of us to make the Bride's Gown Special or the Big Bad Birthday Tower or any of our other specialties. Your mother and I still both have our own skills and identities, and it's only by blending our individual strengths and weaknesses that we can craft the life we want."
He grated the carrots into the batter. "And no matter what you do, Pound, do it with passion. Add a little of yourself in everything you do. Cup and I push each other to keep getting better, and that's been the secret to Sugarcube Corner's success."
Pound nodded, still sitting on the table and watching his father. "I got it, daddy."
Carrot sighed heavily. 'It's a lot harder being on the telling side than the listening side.' He mentally checked off the ingredients from his memory, only to have his chest tighten up. He dramatically slapped his face with a hoof and said, "Oh, no! We're missing an ingredient!"
Pound quickly jumped to his hooves. "What? What are we missing?"
Carrot narrowed his eyes at Pound and gave him a sly smirk. "Why, we need laughter, of course! Now where would we get that…" he said, rubbing his chin.
"But how…" Pound blinked at him, then everything clicked. "Wait. No. No!"
Carrot leapt to the opposite side of the table and reached out his hooves. "Oh, look! I think I found some!"
Pound laughed and scrambled for the edge of the table. In his haste, he tripped over his own hooves, which gave Carrot just enough time to grab Pound and turn the fidgeting, giggling pegasus onto his back.
Pound shouted through a smile, "N-no! Nuh-uh!"
"Why, of course! It was riiiiight… here!" Carrot quickly brought his lips down and blew a loud raspberry on Pound's stomach.
Pound squirmed and squealed as the tickling, rumbling feeling made his body quake. His wings buzzed, and he tried to squirm away, but his muscles felt weak. "Haha! Da… Hahaha! Daddy!"
Carrot held on tight and pulled his head back just a little. "Hm… Not quite enough. Needs another dash." He blew another raspberry, this one even longer and more intense. "And just one more pinch." He blew one last short one, then finally turned the quivering colt over onto the table. "There! Perfect!"
Pound continued laughing and struggled to his hooves. "Daddy," he whined. "No fair! You're bigger than me!" He shot Carrot a defiant look.
Carrot just held a hoof to his heart. "Well son, it's my duty to deliver the best cakes in town." He rolled his eyes and shrugged, putting two hooves up. "I can't help it if that's the only way to get the right ingredients."
Pound laughed and said, "You're silly."
"So are you, Whoopie Pie." He patted Pound on the head, then said, "So, we need to add the spices, and then there's just one thing left." Carrot grabbed the entire spice rack – a lazy Susan design – from the counter and set it on the table.
Pound cocked his head to the side. "Which ones are you gonna use?"
Carrot smiled, but said nothing. He closed his eyes and gave the spice rack a quick spin. Without looking, he held his hoof out and deftly plucked a random container from the rack. Flipping it open with one hoof, he dumped a large dash of something yellow-white into the batter.
Pound Cake gasped. "Daddy, no! That's onion powder!"
"Is it?" Carrot said with a lilt. "Well, maybe I can balance it out with… this!" He plucked two more containers off the rack, then quickly added their contents to the mix. Before Pound could see what they were, Carrot replaced the containers and spun the rack again. Carrot opened his eyes and smiled at the open-mouth, wide-eyed Pound Cake that sat on the table, then grabbed a wooden spoon and started mixing. "Something wrong, Sponge Pudding?"
Pound quickly shook his head and leaned closer, jaw still dropped. "You… but you…" He put a hoof to his forehead, loud enough to make a thunk noise, and his lip curled up into a half-snarl. "You didn't…" He set his hoof back down and looked up at Carrot, the corners of his eyes downturned. "You screwed it up."
Carrot set the bowl down on the table with a soft clink. "Why do you think that, Pound?"
He hopped up onto his four hooves and stuck his chin out, his wings flared. "Because you didn't follow the recipe!"
Carrot chuckled. "That's just it, Pound. Sometimes, there is no recipe. You can't always predict how things will turnout. Sure, you can try to do everything according to plan, but something unexpected will always catch you by surprise. It's a little bit of the unknown, but discovering all the little surprises in life is what makes it worthwhile." He scooted closer to his son. "Why, your mother and I certainly didn't expect to have two foals at once, let alone a pegasus and a unicorn!" He reached over and brushed a wayward hair out of Pound's face. "But we wouldn't trade you two for anything in the world. All of our time, our effort, everything is for you two. Each little experience in our lives brought us closer together, from the starry nights to the arguments to the dates to everything else. We knew we had something special, and that's how we decided we were ready to raise foals. It isn't easy for us to teach Pumpkin magic or to teach you how to fly, but all those challenges make us a stronger family. Variety is the spice of life, after all."
Pound plopped back down and stared at the batter. "But… what if… what if it doesn't come out right?"
"Well, Pound, you can't make it come out right at all. I'm not sure there even is a right way. You can try to make your little cake perfect, and you can put in all the ingredients you think will help him out, but once he's on his way, there's no going back. You do your best, and you trust that he'll be okay, and when he stumbles or soars, you're there for him. And as wonderful as it can be to see him grow, it isn't easy. That's why the last ingredient is so important."
Pound looked back up at his father. "What's the last ingredient?"
Carrot felt his heart swell inside his chest. He remembered the exact words his own father had used, how he had cradled him and explained to him the last, most secret ingredient. Slowly, Carrot Cake stood up from his chair and scooped Pound Cake up in one foreleg. Pound let out a small "eep!" but didn't fight back. Instead, he looked up at Carrot, unblinking.
The silence in the room resonated a few moments, and father and son looked deeply into each other's eyes.
With a deep breath, Carrot recited the last part of the family recipe, exactly as it had been told to him. "Love, my son. Love is the most important ingredient." He nuzzled the small, warm pegasus. "Without it, the recipe would be bitter and flat, and everything would be ruined. But with enough love, even the strangest recipes can be made sweet. No matter what happens, or how wrong everything seems, you must always remember the love."
Pound Cake looked to the batter, then back to his father. Slowly, his mouth curled up at the sides, and all at once, he leapt into his father's chest, wrapping his forelegs around it as far as they would go. "I love you, daddy."
Carrot rested his chin on top of his son's head. "I love you, too, son."
For a brief moment, they remained still. With the messy kitchen as their backdrop – the used bowls, the spills all over the table, the bags upon bags of ingredients all around them – they remained still, as if they were in a painting. Little did they know that they were both thinking the same thing: 'Thanks, daddy.'
Carrot let out a deep breath. "So, I think that's enough of a lesson for today." He set his son down on the table. "Whaddya say we get this cake in the oven so we can have it for dessert tonight?"
A wide smile flashed across Pound's face, and he threw his forelegs into the air. "Yay!"
After preheating the over, Carrot and Pound greased a cupcake pan together, then spooned in the batter. Carrot stuck the pan into the oven and gently closed the door. When he turned around, Pound had hopped from the table to the chair to the floor. Carrot asked, "You wanna play some cards while we–" He was cut off by Pound's large yawn. Carrot looked at the clock and smiled. "On second thought, you're past due for your nap."
Weary-eyed, Pound Cake just nodded. "Carry me?"
"Sure thing, my little Pound Cake."
Carrot reached down and picked up Pound, then carried him through the house, up the stairs, and into the foals' room, stepping over toys all the way. He gently set Pound on the plush bed with the Wonderbolts comforter and tucked him in, then drew the curtains closed before returning to Pound's bedside.
Pound cracked open and eye. He wore a warm smile, but after a moment, he his eyebrows furrowed. "Wait," he said with a raspy voice. "You didn't answer my question. Ponies aren't made of cake, daddy."
Carrot chuckled. "That's true, Pound. They aren't."
"So… where do foals come from?"
Carrot let out a small laugh. "Hm-hm! Well, there are a few more…" Carrot looked up and to the side, searching for the best way to put it "…technical steps to it, but your mother and I agreed that you foals should be a little older before you learn about it." He leaned in and kissed Pound on the forehead. "But it's all true, Pound Cake. Remember the recipe, remember the love, and it will all make sense one day."
Pound didn't respond. His eyes fluttered closed, and within seconds, he was breathing heavily, deeply asleep.
Carrot stood over his son, watching the little pegasus' chest rise and fall under the covers. His mouth felt dry, his head was damp with sweat, and he was ready for a nap himself, but in the quiet of his son's room, everything in the world felt quiet and mellow and gentle and right. He smiled and reached out a hoof, delicately petting Pound's mane. As he did, his mind began to drift, first to the recipe, then to Pound, and finally to his future grandson. He wondered how the recipe would change over time and how Pound would choose to pass it on. He smiled, and in his quietest voice, he whispered, "It's all yours now, son, and you'll do great."
