Bad cake is depressing. Let's talk about good cake.
Raphael vaguely mumbled something the other day about how maybe he would make me a birthday cake this year. And then an alien exploded out of his chest and a city bus careened through the living room window and Lila turned into a giant hamster and caught on fire.
And the dacquoise!
Also, I traditionally get to research and pick out my birthday cake. That's my thing that I do. I can pick out the most complicated thing I want because I'm the one making it. Zero guilt. Past cakes have therefore included:
- The 2006 Flourless Chocolate Cake of Death That Almost Killed Us All and included not only enough chocolate to initiate actual heart palpitations in the birthday girl and at least two innocent bystanders, but also chiles and figs
- The Chocolate Hazelnut Raspberry Torte of 2007. Chocolate. Hazelnuts. Raspberries. Need I say more?
- The 2008 Golden Grand Marnier Cake which was a sour cream butter cake made with orange zest, ground almonds, and bittersweet chocolate all soaked in a Grand Marnier Syrup and finished with a Chocolate Cream Glaze.
- The Mystery Cake of 2009, which was so good that I can't remember making or eating it. This one's going to be a tough act to follow.
Raphael hasn't seen my list of cake options yet, but he looked distinctly haunted when I asked if I still get to pick out what I want even if he's making it. He knows by now, I guess, that my choice is statistically unlikely to be a plain yellow sheetcake with a simple and elegant sprinkling of confectioner's sugar in lieu of frosting. In fact, the one I'm leaning towards involves peanut butter mousse, a layer of homemade caramel, creme fraiche, and friggin' ganache.