My Own Special Touch

My sisters and mom are the only people on the planet that will get the title of this post.  It's still worth it though.

I decided to make a cake on Friday.   I found this recipe called Grandma's Chocolate Layer Cake.

(Which is sort of misnamed if you ask me because the cake is not chocolate, just the frosting.)

(But who am I to judge?)

I more or less followed the recipe.  (Following recipes to the letter is not exactly my forte.)

I don't know if I didn't grease the pans sufficiently or if I should have taken them out of the pans earlier (it was silent reading time and I lost track of time) or maybe it was something else altogether.  But the cake would not come out of the pans.  I tried all my usual tricks and ended up with this:

I (naturally) nibbled some of the crumbs and the cake was very good.  I had to salvage it somehow.

I remembered cake pops which are delicious but troublesome.  They are made with cake crumbs and frosting.  (And I had cake crumbs!)

I cut the frosting recipe by 1/3 (probably--my math in my head skills are dodgy).  And why 1/3?  I don't know.  I also had neither bittersweet chocolate nor milk chocolate.  I used a combination of semi sweet, unsweetened and white chocolate.  It worked.  Can you go wrong with chocolate?

Then I added pieces of cake:

It resulted in a sort of indefinable creation:

It was the consistency of cookie dough and reminded me of the pudding cakes Adam used to bring me back from London.  Delicious.

Later, after dinner, I arranged balls of the concoction with raspberries and whipped cream.  Gavin was here with us and watching me arrange. He asked, "Are you making faces?"  I told him I was making something much more exciting than faces.

He said, "What is more exciting than faces?"

Probably nothing now that I think about it.

But if ever you ever wreck a cake, don't despair.  This was pretty good.