Cake, with a capital 'C'

So, let's talk about cakes, shall we? Now, I have had some absolute cake-rific disasters. Really. You can read all the details here. Cakes have fallen on me like spent plough horses. Cakes have sometimes never baked fully in the center. Cakes have occasionally tasted wonderful, but looked like someone rotund had sat down on them. Years ago, I made a 40th birthday cake for a friend. The person liked German Chocolate, but I soon found that, while butter cream may cover a multitude of sins, German chocolate sauce (you know, the stuff with the coconut) makes a problem cake look suspiciously similar to a giant mound of barf. Yeah....so I didn't actually intend to make a statement on the friend's age, but it pretty much seemed that way when I set the cake in front of them. Yeah, well...anyway! I've grown appreciably better, with much practice, of course.


Well, hello there, lovely. What's your name?



Remember this post from yesterday? About the espresso frosting? I promised you somethin' purty, and darned if I didn't deliver. I'm just bursting with pride. The big cake is for my Mum, whose birthday is coming up. The little cake is for Michael. I mean, a girl just can't have cake in the house and tell her Sweet Hubby, <wagging a finger> no, you can't have any. That's just plain mean. So, he gets one all his own.

What's that? Oh, you noticed there were two small cakes in the picture above? blushing Well, that one....uh, um...cough... it fell on the floor. Yeah, that's it! It fell on the floor. No, I'm totally blowing your horn. I ate it. I mean, come on. Who can wait?