baking just isn't my thing. it always ends up in a disaster and i walk away feeling defeated. but do i give up? hell no. every few months or so i forget about said disaster and throw the flour around with hopes that i may one day be Chef Mary Sonnier or some other fancy-pants pastry chef who puts out delicious treasures.
i'm completely and totally obsessed with the Chambord raspberry in the center delicious cake from Cafe Degas. family and friends take pics of this incredibly yumbo cake weekly knowing that it will make me smile. i adore this cake so much that when i go to Cafe Degas i'll just order an appetizer and skip the entree just so i won't be too filled up to enjoy my cake.
anywho, yesterday i was invited to small party and requested to bring a desert. wait what?! lisa knows i can't bake, why would she ask such a thing? and with that i decided if Degas can do it, well damn it so can i. i mean how hard can it be? actually all i did was make a simple white cake and added a cup Chambord in it. i then lined the inside with fluffy white icing and then raspberry preserves. i couldn't believe how easy it was. and the batter was so tasty i could hear the angels sing. so off i go all dolled up, lipstick heels, hair updo, the whole deal. i pull out of my driveway and head down Carrollton Ave with the cake in my lap because i was afraid it would fall over if i put it on the floor. that right there was where it all went terribly wrong. i'm at the light and i look down to admire my master piece and the entire top layer of the cake is making its way towards my blouse. the light turns green and the fool behind me honks (don't ya hate that?) i slowly accelerate with one hand on the wheel and the other holding the cake and then same fool decides to teach me a lesson and pulls in front of me. i hit the brakes and well then the whole damn cake slides into my new blouse and is now totally off the plate and in my lap and now the top starts sliding sideways and i had a fine mess on my hands. by the time i got to lisa's i looked as though i'd been in a war in the back room at Randazzo's. she just gave me this look like "what in the world happened to you?" icing and raspberry preserves everywhere. how it got in my hair is still a mystery.
actually no one knew of my horror drive to the party and the cake was delicious despite its tumultuous landslide and frantic patch job at each red light i encountered. maybe i just need to give up this idea that i have ninja baking skills and stick to cooking and grilling. but next time i promise you, when i bake a cake, i'm going to make sure it's 100% cooled down before i add icing.