“A party without cake is just a meeting.” ~ Julia Child
I’m not sure how old I was or what passing birthday had just eclipsed my dream of being a child forever but I remember the birthday cake my mom had made. It was a chocolate cake with homemade buttercream frosting and a bittersweet chocolate ganache. It was decadent. It was made with love. And to a child still in single digits, it was crack cocaine.
Every special occasion I
demanded politely requested that my mother painstakingly recreate that masterpiece. Throughout my childhood, I never deviated from that cake. It is one of the favorite memories I have of my mother. I cannot recall whose smile was more prominent when the cake was delivered to the table, hers or mine, but I do know that cake was our moment to share.
Over the years, I lost track of the myriad number of times that cake graced our dining room table but I never lost my love of that cake. I saw how much effort my mom put into that special treat and, perhaps through osmosis, I garnered the same conviction that cake made people happy.
After being absent for some time, due to unforeseen construction on the path of my life, I am back on the road that leads straight to my oven and my decorating tools. I missed cakes. I missed the escape from reality that decorating affords me and I missed the joy in people’s eyes when they had seen what I created for their special occasion.
The piping bags are ready, the cupboards are stocked and the fondant is ready to roll. Let them eat cake!