Mother’s Day will be bittersweet this year.

Again.

My mom passed away 13 years ago at 93 and had had a wonderful life … well, as wonderful as it could have been, having lost my dad at the age of 52. But her resilience got her through. As she used to say, “Judy, I’m alone, but I’m not lonely.”

My mother was the most reliable person I’ve ever known. When I was in high school, she knew the names of all my classmates, which came in handy in case of party crashers. She read every paper I ever wrote, then every column and story – she even read every word of my cookbook before any editor saw it. But her comments were hardly “critiques.” (It sure was hard for me, hanging that moon every night.)

Like most women raising children in the fifties, Mom had a limited, albeit delicious repertoire, but presentation is where she shined. Her table was gorgeous – gleaming silver, the finest cut linen cloths, gorgeous fruit platters and accessories she made herself, such as a bridal gown for the doll that graced the buffet for every future-in-law dinner.

As a chubby little girl in ballet class, I could barely bring my foot to the barre, but I learned as soon as I could walk how to set a table, which way the knife faced and how to fold a napkin.

If truth be told, cooking was not her greatest strength. As a professional singer, her glorious contralto voice graced the stage of Radio City Music Hall. But she gave it all up to raise her children, performing with my dad when we were grown for four short years until his death.

And, she made all my clothes. She and my Aunt Estelle were always sewing and pinning and draping … and ripping, covering mistakes with laces and bows. Did I appreciate that I had not one, but two personal couturiers? Probably not. I thought of my wardrobe as homemade, not handmade. It sounded so poor! Glamour to me was a store-bought dress.

Oh, childhood memories are so selective.

For company my mother always served perfectly cooked roast beef accompanied by a gorgeous display: a whole head of cauliflower surrounded by bursts of red, green, and orange. And always there was her maple walnut cake. I can still smell the walnuts toasting.

Fullerton’s Judy Bart Kancigor is the author of “Cooking Jewish” and “The Perfect Passover Cookbook.” Her website is cookingjewish.com.

LILLIAN BART’S MAPLE WALNUT CAKE

From  “Cooking Jewish” by Judy Bart Kancigor; yields 12 servings

Note: To measure flour, spoon lightly into a measuring cup and level.

Ingredients:

Vegetable oil or unflavored vegetable cooking spray, for greasing pan
2 cups minus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting pan
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 cup vegetable oil
3/4 cup cold brewed coffee
2 1/2 teaspoons pure maple extract
7 large eggs, separated, at room temperature
1 cup (packed) light brown sugar
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 1/4 cups walnut halves and/or pieces, toasted and finely chopped

Method:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 13-x-9-inch baking pan, dust with flour, and tap out excess.

2. Stir flour and baking powder together in a bowl.

3. Combine oil, coffee, and maple extract in another bowl.

4. Beat egg yolks and brown sugar with electric mixer on high speed, scraping bowl several times, until very light and thick, 3-4 minutes. Reduce speed to low and add flour mixture in three additions, alternating with oil mixture in two additions, beginning and ending with flour.

5. Using a clean, dry bowl and beaters, beat egg whites on medium-high speed until soft peaks form. Add granulated sugar, a tablespoon at a time, beating 10 seconds after each addition. Then raise speed to high and beat until stiff peaks form, about 6 minutes total. Stir one fourth of beaten egg whites into the batter to lighten it. Then add remaining whites in three additions, folding them in until incorporated. Fold in chopped walnuts.

6. Scrape batter into prepared baking pan and smooth top. Bake on center oven rack until top is golden brown, cake springs back when lightly touched, and cake tester comes out clean, 55 to 65 minutes. Let cake cool in pan set on a wire rack. Cut into squares, and serve warm or at room temperature.