The sad story of the chocolate cake(s)

(Please note: this was written at 4am on a Wednesday. My baby had made enough noise to wake me up but not actually need me and I failed to return to sleep. The content of this blog is written in a state of slapstick insomnia. Enjoy.)

This a sad story about chocolate cake. The chocolate cake isn’t the sad part though. Goodness, no. There is nothing sad about chocolate cake. Chocolate cake is all that is good in the world.

::trumpets sound, angels sing, other enthusiastic imagery::


This sad story starts a few weeks ago. Or maybe it was last week. It’s hard to tell. I’m unemployed so days don’t really matter much. Anyways, not so long ago, I discovered the show Cake Boss on netflix. That’s when the trouble began. As it is with Netflix, I found a show and started watching it. All of it. Hours upon hours of back to back cake. It brought on the strong urge to eat cake. Oh and remember how I said in unemployed? This urge appeared during a non paycheck week. So, I got no cake.

I tried to make due. I scoured the interwebs for cake in a mug recipes, but each one let me down. Too rubbery. Too wet. Too bland. Nothing like actual cake. So my desire grew. And, of course, I continued to watch Cake Boss because one does not stop watching a show on Netflix until the whole series has been seen. So, on stroke of luck, I discovered $30 cash hidden in an almost 10 year old birthday card before pay day. And, yes, cake was the first thing on my mind. And yes, I barely let Josh finish putting the groceries away before I started breaking eggs and mixing shit in my kitchen. Then I had to wait. See my oven doesn’t work. It hasn’t for over a year. We use it as a nice giant floor weight. That’s like a paperweight only it keeps the floor from flying away. We make up for this lack of useful oven by using a toaster oven that has super awesome normal oven powers. It’s small and doesn’t bake evenly. So I had to make a choice: normally I would just make a super thick cake and put all the batter in a single 8×8 pan and let the edges burn and the inside be kinda raw. That’s how I roll. Plus my husband eats anything I bake for him. So that’s not a concern if I’m just baking for fun. This cake though was for me. It had to be good. So I opted to do the correct two pans and had to cook each one by itself. 30 minutes each. Then cooling time. It was agony after having to wait for what felt like an eternity for my cake.

They came out of the oven and, luckily (I use this word ironically), my toddler decided to do something destructive in the living room. It served as enough distraction that my cakes had both cooled enough to frost by the time I was able to return to them. I layered them and frosted them and, because of my Cake Boss obsession, I even pulled out an icing tip and added a border and design. This cake was to be my masterpiece. I had waited long enough for it. It deserved the love. I added some sprinkles because sprinkles make life better and viola! It was ready. And I dove it. I had a MASSIVE piece of chocolate cake that my child screamed to have some of. But I didn’t share. I made daddy share. This was all mine. I had waited so long and it ended up being so worth it. (Authors note: yes, I realize how much of a fat kid I am. I just love cake that much) This cake lived up to the hype in my head. I use a box mix because 1) I’m lazy and because 2) it is expensive to buy all the things you need for a homemade cake. But I modified it. I adjusted the recipe to make it less boxlike and more scratchmadelike. And it was magnificent.

Further proof of its amazingness: I ate some the next day. I usually bake and then eat the baked good while it’s fresh and then Josh eats the rest for like a week. I had cake for breakfast and after dinner. We finished that cake in 3 days. And then, we were sad.

So, Monday night the cake was gone. I mourned. I had to eat Cheerios for breakfast on Tuesday and who wants that? But Josh gets paid on Tuesdays. So, here’s the sad part of the story. By Tuesday night there was another chocolate cake sitting on our counter looking identical to the one we had just destroyed, and I honestly don’t think it’s going to live to see Friday.

20131120-043919.jpg (PS: yes, I’m aware it’s the same picture as the first cake. I just added a filter and hoped you wouldn’t notice. Truth is: I was too much of a fat kid to take a picture of the second cake before I cut it to pieces. But, trust me, it looks just like this.)

I guess it isn’t much of a sad story at all. Guess it’s all how you look at it. I look at it as more chocolate cake. It’s sad if you look at it as two grown adults who are unable to control their need to stuff their faces with yummy sugary goodness. But I choose not look at it that way.

Btw, it’ll be the last chocolate cake for a while. The second one, that is. I’m going to refrain from my need for dessert (my kryptonite if you failed to notice). Plus, I’ll be baking Christmas cookies with my mom in probably about 2 weeks. 😉

So this a tale of two cakes. It was a delicious tale. It was a sad tale. It’s made me very hungry. I’m going to wait until the sun comes up before I go eat another piece though. I think I can manage that at least.