October 1st, 2009
Oh my. I encountered the most wonderful thing on a mommy blog the other day. It’s a rainbow cake. I couldn’t save the picture, so click here to behold its splendor. For those of you not in a beholding mood, it’s a six layer birthday cake and each layer is a different vibrant, amazing rainbow hue. It is stunning.
A voice in my head immediately started chanting: I love it. I need it. I must make it for Miss Mouse’s birthday.
But then another voice chimed in with: Are you a complete nitwit? Do you not remember The Cake Curse?
For those of you unfamiliar with my family’s Cake Curse, let me fill you in. The short explanation is: we don’t do cakes. They fail. Flamboyantly. Mainly by means of the layers sliding gracefully away from each other and ending up on the floor.
My mother used to make cakes when I was small but after about the twentieth disaster, she gave up and we had things like birthday apple pie. Or the magical chocolate cake from a local restaurant that is so good my mom actually brought me one when I was in seminary — she carried it on the plane in a wicker basket. Yeah, that good.
Anyway, when I got to my teen aged years, I smugly assumed that my mom was just bad at cakes. So I decided to flaunt my own skills by making a chocolate peanut butter confection with the help of my best friend…
…I only wish I could find the pictures of the train wreck that ensued. I know we took some of that poor bedraggled cake that was held together (sort of) with metal shish-kabob skewers that we had rubber-banded together in a vain attempt to stabilize the darn thing. I will say in my defense that it tasted delicious. But it still ended my budding career as a cake baker.
But now I’m a mom and my daughter’s first birthday is approaching and darn it I am *going* to make a cake. Probably not an amazing six-tiered rainbow cake but you never know. I might feel inspired.