by Pat Trevino | August 17, 2025
There’s something about certain dishes—especially the ones we can’t quite find—that linger in our hearts longer than they ever did on our plates. They’re not just about ingredients or instructions. They’re about remembering. About trying to hold onto something that felt like home.
Cuero Online News recently received one of those quiet, tender emails that carries far more than a simple request. Mrs. Heidi Doreck was looking for a recipe.
She explained that her mother, Lois Senf Doreck—who would have been 95 this past April—had a dear friend named Mrs. Pilat. Mrs. Pilat lived behind KN Root Beer in Cuero, near Heidi’s Aunt Rae Stahl, and she was known for one particular tradition: she made Prune Cake for every wedding or baby shower.
“I have not had that prune cake since I was a small child, but I would love to have the recipe,” Heidi wrote.
Over the years, she’s asked—neighbors, longtime Cuero residents, anyone who might remember. But no one had the recipe or recalled Mrs. Pilat. She remembered asking her mother about it after Mrs. Pilat passed away, and her mother gently replied, “Oh honey, I doubt she had an actual recipe—she just knew herself.”
Her story reminded me that sometimes, what we’re searching for isn’t just a recipe—it’s a way to feel close to someone we’ve loved. A flavor that lives somewhere between memory and longing.
I don’t know exactly what Heidi was feeling when she wrote to us—but I know what stories like hers stir in me. After my own mother passed away, I found myself doing the same thing—chasing a memory. Looking for the scent of something familiar, the texture of a dish she used to make, the comfort of a flavor that felt like her.
It wasn’t just about food. It was about connection. About holding onto something that felt like home.
Little did Heidi know, I have a small collection of old recipe books from DeWitt County church organizations—humble, spiral-bound volumes filled with recipes submitted by church members. Some pages are stained with vanilla or dotted with flour—proof they were used, loved, and passed around more than once. These aren’t just cookbooks. They’re community heirlooms—filled with handwritten notes, family names, and dishes that showed up at every potluck, every funeral meal, every celebration.
That’s the thing about these old recipes. Sometimes they were never written down. They lived in the hearts of the women who made them, passed along through memory and repetition, not measurements and timers.
One day, I hope to digitize them and donate both the files and the books to the historical commission—if they’ll have them. Because preserving these recipes means preserving the stories behind them.
So when Heidi’s request came in, I went straight to the shelves. I combed through several cookbooks, hoping to find Mrs. Pilat’s name or a familiar prune cake tucked between the pages. But after hours of searching, I realized it might be easier to Google the recipe.
And I did. Google lead me to a few prune cake recipes —some with buttermilk, some with nuts, some with a caramel glaze.
So while I didn’t find Mrs. Pilat’s exact recipe (yet), I’d like to share a version of Prune Cake that might come close. And while we’re at it, here’s a recipe I came across that I think might belong to my friend Tom’s mother—just another reminder of how these books connect us in unexpected ways. (plus a few other submissions)
If any of our readers remember Mrs. Pilat—or especially if you have her Prune Cake recipe—please reach out. We’d love to share it, preserve it, and pass it on.
Because somewhere out there, someone else might be chasing the same memory.
Prune Cake
Prep Time15 min Cook Time45 min Yield16 servings
Ingredients
- 1-1/2 cups sugar
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 teaspoon baking soda
- 1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
- 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1 cup canola oil
- 3 large eggs, beaten
- 1/2 cup buttermilk
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 cup chopped pitted dried plums (prunes), cooked
- 1 cup chopped nuts
- TOPPING:
- 1/2 cup butter, cubed
- 1/3 cup buttermilk
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 3/4 cup sugar
