Cake hate

My mission was a lemon dessert for the Hatchett Family Easter Dinner.  My dessert of choice was cake.  I envisioned the round contour of the top and the sleek, straight sides plunging toward a etched glass pedestal.  The cake would be moist and light, scented with lemon zest and love.  The filling would be strawberry, tangy and sweet, complimenting the delicate ribbons of lemon cream cheese frosting piped so beautifully around the borders of the cake.  Pastel spotted eggs would line the border to complete the work of art.

At least, that's what I wanted to make.  Instead, I made this:

All was going well until I began to stack the cake and it crumbled in my hands.  I tried to piece it back together and thought my repair attempt was successful, but when I began to dirty ice the sides of the cake the segments of the middle layer began to separate.  It was like watching a plate tectonics horror film.  The more I frosted, the more cake chucks drifted apart while gooey strawberry lava oozed out from the depths of the confection.  In my anger, I picked it up and screamed, "I'm so mad I'm going the throw this on the floor!"  And I was, had Paul not rushed to my side and snatched the cake from my trembling hands.

Cake in the garbage

I think next time I'll stick to cupcakes. . .

Me covered in frosting

Brobee birthday

Last Thursday my little nephew turned two. As I listened to the plans for his special day I noticed a cake was not mentioned. I asked if I could make one.  His mother consented, giving one simple instruction. It had to be chocolate. My nephew loves chocolate!

My sister-in-law was throwing a Yo Gabba Gabba party, complete with hats, napkins, figurines, noise makers, and other Gabba paraphernalia.  I've done a lot of cupcakes lately, and I immediately formed some ideas for Brobee cupcakes.  He seems to be Jax's favorite.

Here's a video of him in action in case you don't know who he is.

Andrea prefers Foofa.

But the more I thought about it, the more I felt a full-sized cake would make a much bigger impact on a two year old.  Around 3:00 P.M. I mixed up my first batter, and just before 11:00 P.M. I slipped the finished product in the fridge.  It was a record for me.  Layers of chocolate cake, whipped ganache, and fresh raspberries marinated over night whilst I awaited the big reveal of my. . . .

Brobee cake!

 Jax saw the cake and said, "Oh!  Brobee!"  I was so excited that he could actually recognize him.

We sang to Jax and he blew out the candle so well we lit it again and let him blow it out a second time.  While we cleared a spot on the counter for cake cutting, Jax examined the smooth fondant.  He poked, stroked, wiggled, and walked his fingers along the cake until we had to rush it away after his finger went up his nose.  He was served a piece and after each bite exclaimed, "Yummy!"  It was worth every minute spent on that cake for his reaction.

Unfortunatly. . . Brobee went to a party. . . a party in our tummy. . .

Eye of Sauron Cake

The amazing thing about in-laws is more birthday parties.  Yesterday, my family threw a little birthday bash for Paul.  He wanted to keep with the Lord of the Rings theme, but for reasons that are still unknown to me, he requested and Eye of Sauron Cake.  Oh boy.  I went all out for this thing.

 Last year, I made a zebra cake (tutorial here).  I thought the results were pretty sweet.

I had the idea to use the same technique but with orange and red batter.  This way, cutting into the cake would reveal a flaming interior.

With three layers, this thing weighed a ton.  Sandwiched between the layers was banana cream pie  buttercream.  I made my typical buttercream (1/2 cup of butter, 1/2 cup of unflavored shortening, 1 tsp. vanilla, pinch of salt, and 3 1/2-4 cups of powdered sugar, 2 tbsp. milk) but substituted one cup of sugar with instant banana pudding mix.

*It was too thick and incredibly hard to spread.  I recommend adding a lot more milk.

I rustically covered the cake with dark chocolate buttercream.

Then I began adding layers of tinted buttercream for the "Eye of Sauron."

I used four different shades to get the effect I wanted.

Twenty-seven candles framed the eye.

Once it was lit on fire (once again feeling like an orc) it really brought out the different shades.

Apparently, the cake of Sauron was so life-like that Paul cowered in fear.

Make a wish!

I got to throw the ring into the fires of Mount Doom cut the cake.

Can you see the flames?

Okay, so the flames inside were a little pink.  Perhaps the next time I make an "Eye of Sauron" cake I will use red velvet.

Hobbit birthday

Can you tell what these are?  I'll give you a hint: they are not aliens.  They're Hobbit hole cupcakes!

Today is Paul's birthday.  Naturally, I began thinking of cake ideas in December.  Completely stumped on what cake to make AND what present to give him, I all but gave up on his birthday until he excitedly insisted I watch the trailer for "The Hobbit" coming out and the end of the year.  Thank you, Paul, for finally dropping a small inkling of a hint.  I googled (don't ya love how that's become a verb?) Hobbit holes and found inspiration is this painting.

I began with gluten free devil's food cake and filled them with a homemade coconut cream pie filling.  Each cupcake got a healthy smear of chocolate ganache. 

 I piped on some green-tinted, coconut-scented buttercream.

And dipped each one in green and yellow coconut shreds.

I thought about stopping here because these looked pretty cool on their own.  But they wouldn't have been Hobbit holes, would they?


(Although, they're not Hobbit holes as much as they're Hobbit Mounds!  Get it?  Because they are coconut and chocolate!)

I strategically placed three chocolate chips, two small for the windows, one large for the door. . .

And piped on frames and a door knob.  (Had I a smaller tip I would have added window panes.)  My hands were so shaky at first, but after a few trial runs I relaxed a bit.

Which was good because I had to pipe eighteen of these Hobbit hole cupcakes.

Then. . . I got a little nerdy and built The Shire.

Soooo nerdy. . . Don't judge me. . .

I asked Paul to clean the kitchen because Andrea was begging for some "Mommy time".  This was his version.  Nice try, Paul.  You're lucky it's your birthday.

Andrea and I finished the job.

I packed up The Shire in my amazing cupcake carrier that I got for Christmas and went to the in-laws for dinner.

I loving jabbed candles into the Hobbit homes-- there weren't one hundred and eleven, but pretty close. . .

Then I lit the shire on fire!  I've never felt more like an orc.

Happy birthday, Paul!  I love you a "hole" bunch!

Winter 'One'derland

December 13th was my little Andrea's first birthday.  I thought I would spend the whole day crying saying, "Where did my baby go?"  But instead I was just filled with joy and this intense gratitude to be the mommy of this sweet little girl.

I made her pancakes for breakfast.  Paul was wishing everyday was her birthday because I don't make warm breakfasts very often.  Last year on his birthday I promised something hot and savory first thing in the morning, and I think he left for school hungry as I nursed, bathed, rocked, and soothed our two month old.

Anyway. . . Andrea woke up on just the right side of the bed on Tuesday and was such a happy girl all day.  She had two beautifully long naps and by the evening she was ready to try opening presents at my parents house.

My parents have some mistletoe and we took turns giving her kisses.  She thought it was so silly.

Andrea seems so grown up now.  While she not walking yet, she stands by herself quite often and will take an unassisted step once and a while.  We stood her beside her presents and she was so confused.  She looked up at us like, "What do you want to me to do with all of this?"  She pointed to Paul and he sat beside her to show her how this strange present opening tradition works.

She loved getting toys.  My grandmother gave her a little snugly giraffe, and she gave it lots of love.  I gave her a book which she also seemed interested in reading.

The clothes she didn't seem interested in at all.  She needed them though because she'd recently grown out of her 3-6 month outfits.

My mother bought her this elephant popper that blows balls out of it's trunk.  She went crazy for this thing, and she enjoys it even more now that she discovered she can turn it on all by herself.

Sunday was her big party and the theme I chose was Winter 'One'derland.  All of those snowflakes we cut out . .

Got hung from the ceiling creating a curtain of snow.

Every snowflake was different and it looked beautiful.  I've decided to leave them up all winter.

 View from the kitchen.

 

I set a winter display on the kitchen table where guests could look through her baby book and review her progress. 

We covered the counter in a while tablecloth and sat out all of the cupcakes

We had three burned out light bulbs in the kitchen.  It's actually been that way for a while but I finally changed them.  The kitchen seemed so bright I thought about removing the new light bulbs.  I'm use to it now and like seeing my food.  But on the day of Andrea's party the kitchen was glowing.

I had two warm scalding drinks to choose from.  White hot chocolate and organic mulled cider.

We had a contest to see who could most accurately guess Andrea's one year weight.  My sister, Janell, guessed it exactly.  17 pounds 8 ounces.

This is the cake I made for Andrea to smash.

She didn't seem too impressed with it.  I think the size was a tad overwhelming.  She even tried to push it off her tray.

We cut her a slice and chopped it into pieces.  In this less intimidating form she went to town.  So many people were watching and her shy nature got the better of her.  She whined and cried a little and seemed relieved when I got her out of her chair.

The adults had 'snowman nose' cupcakes.  A.k.a. carrot cake.  The cupcakes were topped with sad melting snowmen.  Well, most of them are sad.  There is one happy snowman and one cyclops.  Can you find them?

I decided to forgo traditional cream cheese frosting and try a Swiss meringue buttercream.  I've seen it hailed on Food Network shows and worshiped on baking blogs.

It was horrible.  This is the real reason for the sad snowmen.  The buttercream tasted like straight butter.  Paul and I tripled the amount of sugar and it still tasted like a night at the movie theater.  Everyone ate them and said the were good, but I threw half of mine away.  Bless my family's little hearts.  The sacrifices they make in behalf of my self-esteem.

After treats, we gathered in the living room to open presents.

Andrea had such a good time playing with the bows, reading the cards, ripping paper, and cuddling some of her new toys.

After the crowed dispersed I cuddled my little one year old and put her to bed. Paul and I decompressed with a cheese quesadilla, homemade pice de gallo, and Next Iron Chef.  It was a perfect day.