Everyone has a story of the time they ruined a batch of cookies. It’s usually about not understanding what the capitalization of the letter T means in baking measurements. Or that baking soda and baking powder are more like second cousins than identical twins. These are shared experiences among bakers, the kind that keeps us chuckling at our younger, novice selves.

My particular mishap involved a batch of cornbread. I’d been craving my dad’s special butter-and-molasses version, so I set out to prepare some for breakfast. When I took my first bite and tasted the result of adding 2 tablespoons of baking soda, I was near tears. Worse than the embarrassment was the fact that I was not going to be able to enjoy the cornbread I’d been looking forward to all morning. I’ve always taken my food comforts seriously.

In running my own kitchen, I’m not one of those moms who routinely invites my kids to cook with me. I can get it done quicker and cleaner by myself. Even though people think it’s good to let kids cook with them, that didn’t happen when I was young. Instead, it was my parents’ good food that made me love it all.

Early one morning last week, I was making butter mochi for my colleagues. I had my heart set on it even though I’d already determined that I didn’t have quite enough white sugar or the right-size eggs. Then my 11-year-old asked if she could help. I was in a serious hurry to get it in the oven, so I decided to get dressed while she completed the last two steps: 2 teaspoons baking powder and vanilla.

When I came back I mixed it up one more time for good measure, then poured it into the pan and put it in the oven. As I started tidying up, I saw the baking soda box on the table. Oh. No.

I scanned my mind to anticipate what this might do to the mochi. I’ve researched the processes of baking soda before, and I wondered if this would result in that awful metallic taste. It seemed likely that the mochi might just be a little saltier. Maybe some browning would occur. I pulled out the pan and added in baking powder, carefully stirring. Not ideal, but I did want some leavening.

The result was perfection. I got a moist, toffeelike cake with the springy chew of mochi. My colleagues all called it a happy accident, and I passed along their thanks to my daughter Amaya. I guess she learned her lesson: Sometimes mistakes are just new favorites.

Mochi Cake with Mango Sauce

• 4 eggs
• 2 cups packed brown sugar
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 (13.5-ounce) can coconut milk
• 1 (12-ounce) can evaporated milk
• 2/3 cup unsalted butter, melted
• 2 teaspoons vanilla
• 1 (16-ounce) box mochiko flour
• 1-1/2 teaspoons salt
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• >> Mango-coconut sauce:
• 2 cups mango, diced
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 (13.5-ounce) can coconut milk
• 2 tablespoons lime juice

Heat oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9-by-13-inch glass pan.

In a very large bowl, whisk eggs until lightly beaten. Add sugars, milks, butter and vanilla, and stir about 30 seconds. Whisk in remaining ingredients until just combined.

Pour batter into prepared pan and bake 55-60 minutes.

To make sauce: In saucepan over medium-high, heat mango and sugar. When sugar dissolves and bubbles, add coconut milk and lower heat slightly. Simmer until sauce thickens a bit, about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Blend sauce with immersion blender until mango is incorporated into coconut milk. Stir in lime and set aside to cool.

Cake is ready when it is well browned but still a bit tacky. Serve warm with mango sauce (but yes, it’s still good cooled the next day). Makes a 9-by-13-inch cake.

Nutritional information unavailable.

Mariko Jackson blogs about family and food at thelittlefoodie.com. Her column runs on the last Wednesday of the month. Nutritional analysis by Joannie Dobbs, Ph.D., C.N.S.