Call me Martha Stewart!
A friend of mine had a birthday today at work and so I wanted to bake her a cake. Normally when I am in the kitchen it will appear as though I have magical powers. I literally float about the kitchen 2 to 3 inches off of the ground spinning and twirling, slicing and dicing, and making Emeril look like an uncoordinated baffoon.
Enter the round cake.
I never make round cakes and last night I thought round would be a nice option. I pulled out my two cake pans, greased them generously with Pam (the spray, not my next door neighbor even though she is pretty greasy!), preheated the oven, whipped up my mix, poured said mix into the pans and popped them into the oven. The box stated to bake at 350 degrees for 33 to 38 minutes. After approximately 17 minutes my nose started to smell something burning. I raced to the oven to find that my cakes were indeed starting to burn. How pray tell was this possible?
1. I never over bake anything
2. I followed the instructions
3. Did I mention that I am like a wizard in the kitchen?
I removed the pans from the oven and dumped the cakes out of their pans quickly so they wouldn’t continue to cook anymore. The edges were indeed slightly overcooked but the entire cake wasn’t a loss so I let the cakes cool while I consumed a Starbucks Orange Mocha Frappacino and the extra pint of caramel frosting I bought for the cake.
Apparently I’m no Martha After All…
Icing the cakes once cooled proved to be much more complicated than I thought possible. The center of both cakes had risen way above the edges and therefore I couldn’t cut the top of the cakes off to make them nice and flat and so I just stacked them on top of each other thinking that I could just fill in the gaps with icing. People – this tactic just doesn’t work. Long story a little less long – the cake ended up looking like some sort of genetically mutated mass of caramel and chocolate. Lopside, over-frosted, sides gaping, Eddo’s round cake debut was quite the debacle.
When I arrived at work with the cake people shrieked and ran away in fear. You would have thought that I was wearing a large yellow decontamination suit carrying an enormous petri dish with the words “Ebola Virus” stamped on the side.
I gave the cake to my friend Sandy and she just looked at it like “Am I being punished for something?” That is when I yelled out, “Happy Birthday!” with my best smile. She forced a smile on her face and I nervously said, “Apparenlty round cakes aren’t my thing”, she laughed and replied, “You are right about that!” And then she let out a wicked little cackle that resonated with fear and subtle note of desperation.
But you know what they say about gifts, it’s the thought that counts.