Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Birthday Cake

The cookout had ended. The chicken took nearly 2 hours to cook fully but it had cooked and it had been delicious. No one had gone hungry. People came a few at a time and left a few at a time, until 8pm when there were only seven of us left. We loaded up Fraleigh's car with the now dirty utensils and tinfoil pans and knives and uneaten tomatos and avacado and the abandoned bags of chips.

While packing up, I realized that no one had brought a dessert. More signficantly, there hadn't been a birthday cake. No candles. No singing. At no point throughout my birthday had someone sung to me. It may have been the first year that it had happened that way.

And I wanted cake.

Some of you may remember some of my past cake experiences, the Loneliness Cake from earlier in the spring as the chief example of what can happen when I get my mind set on cake baking. I get stubborn and desperate. In fact, many of my baking experiments came to be through stubbornness and desperation. Why cakes? I don't know. Maybe its the same reason I tend to paint my toe nails when I'm angry. It is a nameless urge.

Debate ensued. People wanted different things from the evening. But I was serious: I wanted cake. Specifically, carrot cake. I was pretty sure I had all of the ingredients. So back to Whim Cotty it was.

Cue Mass Chaos.

I've never been part of quite that level of scattered effort. People were pulling things out of cupboards and from the dishwasher and we were starting the cake at the same time we were cleaning dishes from the cookout. It turns out that, once again, I didn't have the right about of oil. Hannah left to get some from her apartment. Pans were dropped. Carrots grated. Flour was haphazardly measured into mixing bowls. Seth perched the computer on his head so we could read the recipe that I only had saved as an email to Barb.





And the, of course, the mixing and baking smelled just fine. It even tasted pretty good.


The aesthetics of cake-from-pan-removal still leaves a lot to be desired.



But a little bit of fire goes a long way to cover the sins of falling apart cakes.

The candles burned a little too long and wax got on portions of the icing. Something had to be done and much of the icing ended up on various noses and in hair.

A proper icing fight: an excellent way to end a birthday celebration!






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