I made my New Year's cake yesterday. I made Edith James cake (a devil's food recipe) and decided last minute to deviate from the prescribed frosting recipe. Turns out the frosting I used--while pretty--was far too rich for this already rich cake. So, lesson learned. Stick with the sweeter frosting.
Lest you think this post is just about frosting, let me confide to you the real betrayal: my husband confessed he doesn't like cake. I know that logically this is nothing personal, but it sure is taking all my cake-loving heart has to not take this uber-personally. In a fit of comical dramatics last night, I blurted out that had I known about this significant character flaw a long time ago, perhaps we wouldn't even be married today.
(I jest. Obviously. Mostly. But really, I love him. For the record.)
Oh the sad truth that I married a man who doesn't like cake, when cake is my most favorite treat to concoct. And what fun is it to make a cake just for yourself? (Unless it's that peanut-butter ganache delicacy that I compulsorily hoard.) Wo, wo, wo is I.
[End scene]
Dramatic much?
5 comments:
So this means you need a new cake-eating partner to help you devour all your magnificent cake creations, right? I volunteer as tribute!
So this means you need a new cake-eating partner to help you devour all your magnificent cake creations, right? I volunteer as tribute!
So sad! But I must confess, I am a pie girl :)
Man, I could eat that cake for breakfast. Right now. Josh, you cray.
I'm sure he'll come around over time. He probably didn't grow up with cakes like that; I certainly didn't.
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