Baking

Yesterday was Mark’s birthday. I wanted to bake him a cake, something I don’t often do. (With only 2 of us in the house, a cake is a sure way to overindulge! Cupcakes, most of which can be put in the freezer for eating over a longer period of time, are a much better choice for us.)

I’m not sure why I was feeling so stressed when I was working with it. I managed to get the cake layers out of the pans and onto a cooling rack without breaking them, and then to make my mother’s ‘from-scratch’ Cocoa Butter Cream Frosting. Putting it together is always dicey for me – wondering if it will stand upright instead of leaning to one side – and getting the icing to the right consistency is ‘iffy’ as well. (I once ended up with concrete – and that was many, many years ago, so you can see how traumatized I was by that.) But still… It’s not rocket science and I’ve done it many times, even if not recently. Where was that ‘uncomfortable’ feeling coming from?

But it all worked – looked great, tasted great. (Since the trick to getting it straight is to cut off the rounded top of the bottom layer, you also get to taste it!) Mark was thrilled.

And then I cut into it. Bit of difficulty there in the middle. What was that?

You know how you are supposed to put waxed paper on the bottom of the pans so the cake comes out easily?

Evidently you are also supposed to remove it before you put it all together.