By the time I was done, my kitchen would look like a citrus massacre had taken place, but it would be cleaner than it was when I had started. Rather, my cabinets would be anyway. It had started out innocently enough, surely as all my cake schemes do- but it would go awry….. Because that is famously what happens in things I put my hands to. They just often go off kilter.
I am attempting to believe that this is a charming facet of my personality, and not the character flaw I’m sure most others would. When I am in the kitchen, I often imagine that somewhere, I am causing apoplectic tantrums in some chef somewhere, in some lovely copper filled kitchen where the floor is pristine, the walls are bleach white, and natural sunlight streams through wide arched windows, casting their light onto generously sized counters in honey toned woods and cold granite. But… as usual, I digress.
Cakes and I have a long history of having issues. Sometimes we get along famously. Sometimes.. Well, sometimes things go so disastrously that I wonder if counseling would be out of the question. I am pretty sure the counseling is needed anyway. Likely, it isn’t all the cakes fault.
So.. my first post that I started in the beginning of the month, was supposed to be all about cake, the running monologue that was going on in my interior during the cake-a-thon. I promise it was witty and brilliant, and my punctuation was going to be perfectly aligned with grammar. Really. It was. The fact that the draft was called “The best laid plans…” is killer. Because life happened, and I was tired at the end of all that cake. I did take pretty pictures for you though. I assure you that despite a crack in two of them? They were fabulous and perfectly baked, not awry at all. The awry part was ….. the loss of my balloon whisk. I found it, I dismantled my kitchen in the process and cleaned out my cabinets. That was the awry part…. And I learned that I do not like baked strawberries in cake. Thats about it.
In the end, I had three lovely cakes. Two lemonade, one strawberry lemonade that was the perfect shade of pink. My glaze was fantastic. I went through more lemons than I can count. I massacred strawberries. I experimented and failed making a purple lemon glaze when I steeped and strained blueberries in lemon juice. I foolishly sugared my fruit on the final lemonade cake in hopes that the humidity would leave it alone and it would be fabulous for presentation. It didn’t. It still looked lovely. I was not embarrassed. It did not go awry. The cakes were eaten. One of the cakes was ninja’d and gone within 10 minutes. Thats winning, I say.