Finally, Friday is here! It was a long week, but a quiet day at work today, which is good, because I had to rush home to get birthday stuff together for my partner’s
sixseven-year old. He was thrilled to get a sleeping bag and a Donald Driver jersey, among plenty of other things, like Harry Potter Legos and books. When he and his mom discussed what he wanted to have for dinner for his birthday, he said turkey. This is particularly interesting because until almost a year ago, he was vegetarian. For some reason, at his uncle’s house on Thanksgiving, he decided he wanted to eat turkey, and fell in love with it. If you asked him two months ago whether he’d also like to eat chicken, he would crinkle up his nose and say in a defeated voice, “No, I don’t like chicken.” This summer, though, he spent two weeks with his grandparents, and he asked to eat turkey with them, too. Unwilling to cook a big bird for just the three of them, his grandma bought chicken and called it Small Turkey. He loved it. So, we eat Small Turkey around here every now and then, and had it for dinner tonight. Well, his mom still had fake chicken, but having more than one meat eater in the house is kind of nice.
When his mother asked him what kind of cake he wanted, he decided he wanted a double-decker chocolate cake with strawberries and vanilla frosting in the center, but chocolate frosting around the outside. I am no baker. I am a pretty decent cook, but I can’t bake to save my life. Well, I can manage a cake from a box, but then decorating is not my strong suit, either. My sister, on the other hand, has missed her calling in life. She make the most unbelievable cakes ever. Like Ace of Cakes quality, given that she doesn’t use power tools and wood to build the framework for them. For the purposes of example, I include images. Guess which one my partner and I made tonight… Yes, you’re seeing right – the top layer is sliding its way off the bottom, riding a sticky, goopy, kind-of-like-an-oil-spill slick of vanilla frosting slime – with some strawberries floating in there for good measure.
I admit, it is my fault that this young California native is a Green Bay Packers fan. If only we were actually in Wisconsin, he could get some brilliant version of a football cake, probably a perfectly sculpted life-size helmet or something. Instead, he gets this drippy mess. Warning to other baking challenged people – if you want to put strawberries between the layers of a cake, you probably should avoid putting frosting in there with them. That, or hire my sister for some lessons. Note: Images blatantly stolen from my sister’s Facebook page and re-posted here without any permission, whatsoever.