When we were growing up, my sister and I always got Easter egg cakes on Easter. They came from a bakery and had our names across the tops in delicate icing script. I insisted on chocolate frosting, which meant mine was always a very un-Easter-like dark brown while hers was pink or yellow. But that egg cake was The Thing in our house. Now, I see them at New York City bakeries for an unforgivable amount of money. I could bake my own with a special egg-shaped pan, but I don’t have room in my cupboards for a pan I might use once or twice a year. So I set out to make egg cakes with nothing more than a loaf pan and a sharp knife.