Mascarpone Marble cake
There are just some things you just don't forget about growing up. I remember getting off the train on 3rd avenue in Manhattan as a child and walking over to my Uncles bakery on 2nd avenue. My grandmother, (who worked that window better than a patrol officer), would fill our bags with sugared donuts and black and white cookies on a Saturday morning. For a child, it was as if we had found a pot of gold. By the time we arrived at our destination (Nonna Maria's house, on 1st avenue ), our stomachs were full and our bags almost empty. Nonna Maria would quickly suggest walking up and down the 5 flights of stairs. The stairs up to her top floor apartment on 1st avenue and 116st. seemed endless. Work up a new appetite? Mission Accomplished. Nonna Barbara would always wrap up pound cake for me to take over to Nonna Maria's house. That little white box wrapped up in Peppermint string (red and white). It w...