All About Me Cake

This year I made my own cake. I was excited to do it. Actually, I begged Jason to let me do it. I wanted an ice cream cake, so I decided to decorate it with butter cream. I thought it would be fun to make a cake that represented me - things I like: Coach, cooking, Disney, flip flops and of course, Starbucks. I really like how it turned out... although, at one point I almost gave up and bought a store made cake. I *shudder* at that thought. The making of this cake was one disaster after another. I'll share because it's funny.

Jason went to the store to get something for dinner. He told me to text him my list. I did. After he was home for about an hour I asked him if he had put the CoolWhip in the freezer. What CoolWhip? Oh... the stuff for your cake. He forgot to check his text. Well, that sucks.

We eat dinner, I finish up my butter cream transfers and then head to the store. It's already after nine. Ugh. My list: Cake mix (yes, I cheated, but I always make my own frosting), CoolWhip and ice cream. The first place I head in the store? The bakery... Maybe there is some plainly decorated cake that I can just scrape off the crappy store done design and then put my transfers onto it. Maybe. Because I'm tired. Really tired. And at this point I just want to go to bed. But no luck. They are all hideously decorated with way too many flowers and balloons to remove. And expensive. So I go get my supplies, pay and then drive home.

I preheat the oven. I gather up my eggs and my oil. Crap. I'm almost out of oil. I pour it into the measuring cup and it's just short of the quarter cup that I need. It's almost ten. I'm tired and there is NO way i'm heading back to the store. Instead I head to the computer and hop onto Google. One suggestion, just use extra water. Ok. This I can do. I add the little bit of water and dump it into the mixer bowl along with the mix and the eggs. I beat it for the required two and a half minutes. I check the batter. It's thick. Really thick. Why is it so thick? I added the three eggs, the oil mixture and the water... wait! I. didn't. add. the. water. Crap. I add in the water and turn the mixer on low and the water sprays me. Crap. I grab a spoon and try to mix it in. It works so I turn the mixer back on and mix it up some more. Not bad. It's usable. I put it into my four little pans and pop them in the oven and wait the twenty minutes, take them out and let them cool in the pan for the required ten minutes. I go to unmold the pan and the stupid things break apart and pieces of each are stuck. in. the. pan. Crap. I realize that I forgot to grease the pan. It's a nonstick pan. Nonstick my butt. I save what I can and toss the rest. I grease the pans and go for round two. I fill my pans and run out of batter. And I have no more oil. Great. Just great. I put what I have in the oven and hop back on the internet. Some suggest apple sauce and some suggest mayo. I decide on mayo. I grab the jar out of the fridge and attempt to open it. The lid won't budge. I'll have to go with the apple sauce. Ugh, it's cinnamon apple sauce and it's eleven thirty and at this point I don't care. The timer beeps and I take out the baking cakes, they cool and I remove them from the pans. Some come out without a fight and some, well they break again. It's midnight and I'm defeated. Who needs and ice cream cake. I'll just serve plain cake with ice cream. I grab a normal square pan, grease the crap out of it, pour in the freshly mixed batter made sans oil and with the cinnamon apple sauce. I bake it. I cool it. I pop it out of the pan. Success. It's nearly one thirty. I have to get up at six. I go to bed. Cake undecorated. I don't care.

The alarm goes off way too soon and I hop in the shower. While I'm standing under the hot water trying to wake up the light bulb goes off. I quickly finish my shower and head to the kitchen. I grab my pan and cover the bottom with plastic wrap and dump the ice cream in it. I spread it around the pan and then toss the chocolate-cinnamon-apple cake on top. I throw it into the freezer and I now have my ice cream cake. It may be undecorated but it's a cake. I head to my "party" and come home several hours later. I takes me maybe ten more minutes to finish the cake. Perfect.

Next year... I. will. let. someone. buy. me. a. cake!

Crazy Daisy Cake

I am on my fourth and final Wilton class. Already, I have learned so many different techniques for decorating cakes. This cake is actually three different cakes that she had us make into one cake so we could do all the styles.

Pay no attention to the gaping whole and missing gum paste daisy and ribbon on the one side of the cake. The fondant monster attacked my cake before I was able to take any pictures of it. At least he is an honest monster... "Mommy, I ate some of your fondant from your cake over there." Got to love a little boy who tattles on himself.

Unhappy Valentine's Day

The day started out great and was fine right up until I burned my hand. I stupidly - out of habit - grabbed the handle of the pan. Normally, it doesn't get hot - it has a silicone handle - but I cooked with it in the oven - a three-hundred-seventy-five degree oven. Ouch! After that, the steak got over cooked because I was distracted by the pain in my hand. Jason had to help me finish cooking everything else and he was nice enough to do the dishes after dinner... until the sink drain started leaking.

The day wasn't entirely a bust: Jason surprised me with a dozen red roses and chocolate covered strawberries (which went great with the cheesecake I picked up for dessert). The table looked great. The dinner was tasty - even with the overcooked steak.

So far today looks better than yesterday... The plumber just left and luckily the leak was covered under the warranty. And, my hand only has blisters in three spots - last night I was thinking my whole hand would be covered.

Home Cooked Heaven

Jason and I are so tired of eating microwaved food, barbecued food and eating out. So today I pulled out the crock pot and made a roast - complete with carrots, onion and a potato. It will be interesting to see how it tastes because the only decent spices that I could dig out of the boxes were oregano and pepper. Oh well... I guess a bad home cooked meal is better than no home cooked meal.

Ryan's Birthday

Today is my nephew Ryan's Birthday. He told his mom that he wanted a cake like Dillon's but one that was chocolate, with fudge in the middle, chocolate frosting and his name on it. So, not really like Dillon's, but what he wanted was a layer cake. Being the nice aunt that I am (and really that it gave me a chance to bake something) I offered to make the cake for him. So, I woke up early and went to the market to buy the stuff to make the cake: 2 boxes cake mix, 2 jars hot fudge, 2 containers of frosting and eggs. (Yes, I took the easy way out and used cake mix.) The girl bagging my groceries actually asked me if I was making a cake. I had to bite my tongue to not reply with a response along the lines of: No, I'm making soup!

I got home and preheated the oven and started making my cakes. As I was making them, I kept thinking of the incident that Marci had last week when making a cake for her dad - Her son accidentally dropped it on the floor. Luckily, that didn't happen to me and Ryan's cake turned out perfect. I was so excited at how smooth and line free I managed to get the frosting on the top of the cake and the lettering turned out awesome - even with my normally ugly writing.

So, I put the cake in a box lined with foil to transport it to the birthday boy and we set off on our 29.29 mile trip to deliver the cake and then go out to dinner. All the while I kept thinking how much it would suck if the cake were to fall off my lap (I'm such the optimist). We were about 2 miles from our exit when we had an accident... (Yes, were ok - notice that I said that we had an accident and not that we were in an accident. There was no car accident, just a cake accident.) Jason was driving and I was holding the cake on my lap and staring off into space. I was trying to figure out the rational of the guy driving the truck next to us. It was for sale. It was a 1994 Chevy Truck. With a big dent on the side. All for the price of $16,000. I was pondering who would actually pay that much for that truck when Jason hit the brakes hard and the cake slid out of my hands and landed - upside down on the floor of the car. A rarity ensued when expletives flowed from my mouth like lava from a volcano. I just stared at the bottom of my beautiful cake, wanting to cry. Jason just kept telling me to flip it back over. After I got over the shock of what had actually just happened, I came to my senses and did what he was telling me to. The foil that I had - Thank God - loosely covered the cake with was now smooshed to the top of the cake like silver icing. When we got to the house, I carried to remains of my cake in to survey the damage. I peeled back the silver bandage to find this:

All that was left untouched of my beautiful work of art was the "N". I decided that with some major surgery, the cake could be repaired. So, Jason and I drove to the store to buy more chocolate frosting and a pack of writing icing. We got back to the house and I mentally prepared myself to fix the cake - all the while Jason is taunting me about how this wouldn't have happened to the "Ace of Cakes" to which I retorted that I just saw it happen last time I watched the show - only their cake disaster was MUCH worse! So with a little patience, I was able to fix the cake. Or, at least make it better...

It was still smashed onto the side of the box, but I definitely think that it was a major improvement from what it looked like before I repaired it. Later on, we went out to Red Lobster so Ryan could have his favorite food - crab! Dillon got a little fussy towards the end of the meal, so my wonderful nieces and nephew took him to see the lobsters. He looked at them and then decided that he wanted to jump in with them. Luckily, they are fast on their feet and he wasn't able to dive into the tank.

When they brought him back to the table, Dillon demonstrated to everyone his lemon eating skills. He ate (or rather sucked on) three lemon wedges.

After dinner, we went back to the house for cake and ice cream. Even though the cake wasn't so easy on the eyes, it was great in the mouth. Well, maybe a little rich, but luckily we had vanilla ice cream to help wash it down... Anyway, I hope Ryan had a Happy Birthday and that he like the cake that he requested.

(I really liked this picture of Dillon - It's from before we ate dinner)

The Metal Apple

So, I just finished giving Dillon his lunch and am a little freaked out by what happened while preparing it. I scoured the pantry and the fridge looking for something to give him to go with his cereal. There was the obvious choice of a container of baby food - peaches and carrots are his favorite. Then there was always the diced baby foods that come in the jar. But, since we are in the process of introducing him to "real people food," I decided to fore go food by Gerber and just chop him up an apple. He sat in his high chair, chomping on his cheerios and patiently waiting for me to mix the cereal and slice and dice up the apple. The apple was soft, but I decided that it could be a little softer, since the little guy only has two teeth. This is the part where I become freaked. I put the small chunks of apple on a paper plate and popped it into the microwave for 15 seconds. 5 seconds passed and suddenly I heard a buzzing sound coming from the microwave - zzzzzzzz. I look in and the apple is sparking! I quickly open the microwave and inspect the apple and plate. Hmmm, strange, I think, as I toss the singed piece of apple in the trash. I decide to try again thinking that it must be a fluke. I stick it back in and 3 seconds pass - zzzzzzzzzz. Sparking again. I once again take it out and decide to just toss the stupid plate out (which now at this point has small burn marks on it). I put the apples into a glass bowl while thinking three things. 1. Maybe the plate isn't microwave safe (it's made of paper so how could that possibly be?), 2. Apples are NOT made of metal and 3. The third times the charm, right? So, I put the non-metal apples and the glass bowl back in the microwave. Bzzzzzzzz. I. Can. Not. Be. lieve. It!! Are you kidding me? The apples are still sparking and on the verge of catching on fire. So, by now, I am at my wits end and just throw out the stupid apples and open a jar of Gerber apple chunks. So much for the fresh food. Either we bought metal apples or something was possibly wrong with the knife. And since I know that apples are definitely not made of metal, I tossed the knife in the trash with the apples.