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.