I am not a baker. I’m a fairly decent cook, but the whole baking side of the equation, usually leads to tears. I’m even worse at decorating cakes. But every year, on my wife’s birthday, I bake a cake. I’m fairly certain I haven’t missed any… I remember once even bringing all the ingredients with us on a road trip and making sure we got a kitchenette at the hotel we stayed in on her birthday so I could bake an approximation of a cake.
Most years I’m not brave enough to post pictures of my lop-sided, cracked icing, monstrosities, but this year’s red velvet cake ended up looking better than most of my other attempts.
(I should note, to avoid any misunderstanding, that my wife is slightly older than the candles might otherwise lead you to believe. And the kids did the decorations.)
I have to say though, for flavor, I still prefer the old recipe we used to use when our eldest son had food allergies — when it works out its a rather tasty cake.
And in non Cake related news I’ve hit the halfway point on the rough copy of Novel #6.