The Great Lamb Cake Legacy: A Story of Family and Tradition

Every Easter weekend, I find myself drawn back to the kitchen—preparing recipes for those I love. But there is also something deeper. I pull out an old Griswold cast iron lamb cake mold, heavy with memory and meaning, and begin a ritual that spans generations.

As a child, Easter wasn’t Easter without the lamb cake. My mother made it every year, just as her mother had before her. The cast iron mold, seasoned by decades of cakes and care, is more than a baking tool. It is a symbol of continuity, of celebration, of home. We five siblings would hover nearby, sneaking bits of frosting, waiting for that first sweet slice.

Over time, as we all grew up and scattered to our own lives, the question arose—who would inherit the lamb cake mold? Family traditions, like family heirlooms, can stir up more emotion than expected. As the middle child, I was never quite in the running. The mold went to another sibling, no surprise.

But family is more than old molds. It’s also about making new memories—and sometimes, a little eBay sleuthing. I managed to find not just one, but over time, find several vintage Griswold lamb cake molds online, some in their original boxes. I gave one to each of my siblings (minus the one who had Mom’s original) and tucked three away for my own children. Suddenly, the tradition wasn’t just continuing—it was expanding.

Now, each Easter, I know that somewhere in the country, my siblings are likely pulling out their molds, too. We’re baking the same cake, frosting the same lambs, telling the same stories to a new generation. And while none of our molds are the mold, they each carry the spirit of it.

Last year, my son in Chicago baked his very first lamb cake. Being in an earlier time zone, he is the first this year to send a photo—and to everyone’s amazement (and slight envy), it came out of the pan in utter perfection. Not a single ear broken, no frosting needed to cover a cracked neck. It was a masterpiece. He’s now set the bar high, and I’ll admit, I was feeling the pressure this year.

So, I try something new: a lemon pound cake recipe, inspired by the bounty of fresh lemons from a neighbor’s tree. Even though I’ve baked this cake for years, every Easter feels like the first time. What recipe did I use last year? Do I flip the mold mid-bake? Have I greased every nook and cranny properly? Is the oven too hot or not hot enough? With crossed fingers and a whispered prayer, I slide the cake into the oven and hope for the best.

This year, I also experiment with a lemon cream cheese frosting—tangy, smooth, and perfect for coaxing the shredded coconut into a woolly finish. After letting the cake cool, I hold my breath and gently tip the mold. It comes out perfectly, lamb-like and whole. A small miracle.

I snap a photo and send it to my son, proud to show that Mom’s still got it. After frosting and fluffing with coconut, I add jelly bean eyes and nose and tie a pink satin ribbon around its neck. Nestling the lamb on a serving dish with green moss, robin’s eggs, and spring flowers. it is a proper Easter centerpiece.

Sadly, this year my siblings are scattered—moving, remodeling, traveling. The annual lamb cake challenge is a quiet one, without our usual flurry of texts and photos. But next year? They better be ready. This mother/son duo kept the tradition alive and well—and we’ve raised the bar.

Because in the end, it’s not the mold that matters. It’s the hands that use it, the memories we make, and the family ties that hold strong, year after year, cake after cake.

I am delighted to hear that many of you have a relative’s lamb cake mold and asked for the recipe I use. Though I missed getting that to you before Easter, here it is. It warms my heart that next year many of us will be baking our lamb cakes together. For those of you who want to join in the tradition, check out eBay, Etsy or your local thrift/antique store for one of the original cast iron molds. The new ones are just not the same.

Do you have family traditions that bring back memories or create new ones? Please do share!

P.S. This lemon pound cake recipe is really good any time of year. You can add a simple icing on top vs. the frosting.