Male housemate wants to make a cake for my upcoming birthday. Female housemate feels some explanation is in order. And so the conversation this morning went something like this:
Her: Have you ever had one of his cakes before?
Me: No. But I'm looking forward to it.
Her: You should know, perhaps, a little about this cake.
Him: Are you casting dispersions on my cake?
Her: No!!! Not at all. It's just that she needs to know... (turns to me,) you need to know...
Her: It's not going to be a Ganache cake. (Offering a familiar bow to one of the finest cakes in town.)
Me: But isn't a cake someone's made for you themselves even better than Ganache?
Her: Well yes! But differently better.
Him: (Much laughter.)
Her: (Changing her voice to mimic that of an enthusiastic, naughty child's.) His cakes are like the kids in the backyard. "He he. We should make a cake." "Oh yes. Mom's not home." "Ah. Cake. Yes, we'll make cake!" "She'll never know."
Me: That was a little bit of a dispersion.
Him: Yea, I think so too.
All: Laughter and more drinks from our coffee mugs, all of us - I'm confident - now looking forward to that cake.
I know I am...
You've been so patient. Sitting around waiting for pictures of this cake...the cake about which so much forewarning was provided. The cake that might have gotten one of the housemates just the tiniest little bit in the doghouse - what with that tiny dispersion and all.
Last night when it was discovered that the cake was, alas, nearly gone, The Chef Himself lamented how the top slid a bit off the bottom layer when it was first brought out. It was then discussed that even though the cake had been placed in the fridge for cooling, when one uses whipped cream (yum!!!) instead of frosting (ever so much lighter and quite pleasing in its moisture content, not to mention creaminess,) it might be understandable for the cake to slide a little. And very much okay. He didn't love that answer. Only after he was reminded that He Also Made Fire...and the cake was, after all, then brought from the fridge into the room where that very fire had been made by his very own hands. Perhaps, then, it made more sense to have a sliding cake. He seemed more okay with that answer.
As I was pleased by my very own Handmade By A Friend And Not From Some Impersonal Bakery Birthday Cake. Yum. All that's left, after last night, is this picture. And the stories. And the memories.
Oh. But somebody I know still has the recipe...