1. I love to bake.
2. I love my birthday more than anyone else on the planet loves their's.
As my birthday was approaching last year I had a friend tell me that I should just make my own birthday cake because it would taste better than anything anyone else baked. I decided to heed that advice and set out to construct two delicious cakes I had seen on Pinterest. My birthday always falls during or right after finals week. I had already finished all of my finals, so I went to work for a few hours and then came home to bake away my 22nd birthday until my friends were done with class and work. One of the cakes was a simple cream cheese pound cake with fresh fruit garnish. The other was a salted caramel hazelnut cake. The pound cake slid out of my coveted Nordic Ware bundt pan perfectly, but the salted caramel hazelnut cake (heretofore called ugly cake) had some challenges.
I greased the pan with butter and a dusting of cocoa as I had done many times before for various different recipes, but when I went to remove the cake from the pan it stuck in some areas and was an abomination to my Food Network standards. I was so angry I wanted to just throw it away. Luckily I received a text message from a friend at this point asking if I wanted to go get some dinner for my birthday. I gave ugly cake a look of exasperation and left it on the counter as I bounded out my apartment to celebrate my birthday with another dinner (I celebrate my birthday the entire month of April, so while this was the only dinner I ate on my actual birthday, I had already celebrated at many an eating establishment in the Provo area throughout the month).
After eating dinner, running to Target, getting some Cold Stone, and listening to Taylor Swift's 22 against my will, we went back to my apartment to figure out the fate of ugly cake. I decided to frost it with the delicious Nutella frosting I had whipped up to see if it would look prettier. It didn't. I soldiered on anyway and started to make the homemade caramel drizzle for the top of the cake and left that in a storm of frustration after I spilled caramel on my favorite skirt. My friend jumped in and dealt with the simmering pot of diabetes, at which point he spilled some on his pants as well. Somehow we finished every aspect of the cake and assembled it into the ugliest cake that was ever baked west of the Mississippi.
Ugly Cake in all of its glory. |
No comments:
Post a Comment