Grandma Loretta's Pineapple Upside-Down Cake
This is the card that started the second pass through Grandma Loretta's box. The front is freckled with old syrup, and someone wrote PERFECT in red hard enough to leave two shallow underline grooves. The back is stranger: a church-picnic date and one sentence about David, who became my grandfather. I kept Loretta's brown-sugar topping and soft butter cake, but measured the pineapple liquid and named the pan—two details her card assumes you already know. Turn it out while it is still warm. Waiting feels cautious, but the topping becomes considerably less cooperative.