Eight more days until Christmas. I can’t believe it! I don’t feel anywhere near ready for the trip back to Colorado, let alone for the whirlwind of activities that will be taking place over the next few days. James & I are going to Disneyland on Thursday–he bought us annual passes to the park, woohoo!!–and we’ll be having some of his fellow residents over for a holiday dinner party on Friday. The weekend will be a flurry of activity; we’ll be getting ready and buying last-minute presents before we fly out on Monday night. And when we finally make it down to my parents’ house on the 24th, we’ll be hitting the ground running; church, dinner, and a baking and cooking frenzy until guests arrive for our holiday potluck on the 25th. I think somewhere in that chaos will be presents… or possibly a few minutes to stop and enjoy ourselves and the fact that we can finally be together as a family on Christmas for the first time in two years. It sounds tiring and overwhelming, to say the least.

I can’t wait.

If I get the chance, I’ll try and make this hot chocolate for everyone (somewhere between baking and sleeping, that is). It’s decadent and rich–the servings are small, and for good reason. I know that there’s a lot of cream in it, and the healthy individual in you cries at the thought of its fat content. But hey, friends–it’s the holidays! The fat we’re putting on our hips is January’s problem! (At least, that’s what I tell myself when I go to town on the holiday fare.)

Rich, creamy chocolate with a hint of bitter cocoa and a sweet aftertaste of peppermint… perfect for those holiday nights with family. Now I’m tempted to make another batch for myself…

I’m not sure why, but I got a hankering for this cake a few weeks before I flew out to Colorado to spend time with my grandmother. Since she was overseas on a cruise at the time, I figured I would find the recipe online with little trouble. Well, you know what they say about when you assume…

Where was this mystery cake? It has a similar consistency to bibingka (a famous Filipino baked dessert) but was baked in a pan, not in banana leaves. It had condensed milk instead of salted cheese and eggs at the top. It contained dried coconut in the batter, but not young macapuno (young coconut) like most of the other recipes called for. I kept hitting dead ends, and ended up resigning myself to waiting until I visited Colorado so I could have the mastermind herself–my grandmother–show me how to make it.

The recipe itself is very easy–but the taste takes me back to my childhood, when my family and I would fight over the chewy corner pieces and pick the condensed milk off our front teeth (then lick our fingers). I always knew that mochiko cake was on the way when I saw the trademark white box and condensed milk sitting on the counter. I remember my grandmother making it for special occasions, for our giant holiday potlucks, or sometimes just because my brother and I begged her to make more (usually because my dad had eaten all of the edges already).

As I grow older and look to start a family of my own, I find myself awash in the nostalgia of my childhood–and as a Filipino woman, the food I grew up with is an instant connection with my past. I’m so grateful that I was able to watch and learn from my grandmother today; I can’t wait to share this recipe with my kids when they’re old enough to bite through this chewy, sticky cake! (And probably fight with them over the best pieces. You know, because… tradition?)

Lastly, I should note that this recipe makes 2 8×8 pans of cake/ 1 13×9 pan of cake. It’s a very heavy cake–think brownie-type thickness–and if you’re not making it for a party, I would encourage you to halve the recipe.