Are you ready for a sob story? Here it is. I cut myself. It is embarrassing. I mean here I am posting about my ability to bake delicious treats and I can't open a package of tempeh without slicing my finger to the bone. Wah wah wah. Yeah. Pathetic. So I am now in the hunt for a sugar daddy or a sugar anybody who will sponsor culinary classes for me. It is the logical next step. My knifing skills are proving to be sub-par. While few baked goods rarely require sharp knifes, I have been told that cake for all meals will result in the need for larger pants, obesity, and death. Blah blah blah. So I eat other things and cut myself. Typing this blog is currently a challenge but my non-bending finger has an awesome neon green Band-Aid on it, so I am not gonna complain too much.
Next subject. Cake. Black forest cake to be exact. One of my teammates at school tells the best stories of her southern upbringing, her nanny and that Georgian cuisine of fried chicken, some greens and a big ole slice of black forest cake. She NEVER eats sweets anymore, but anytime we start talking about baking, there goes Patti off down memory lane to the black forest cake. I decided it was about time to bring one into work. After all, it's only been 4 years. There was some anxiety around bringing in her childhood favorite because that's a lot to live up to. I was shaking in my boots. Black forest cake also has 4 pieces to the process (see below):
You get your cake, then your ganache, then the whipped cream (with mascarpone cheese btw which equaled heaven), and finally cherries. Many steps, many opportunities for fail. But don't worry, no fail occurred. Why I call it a win? My principal ate it for breakfast AND stopped my lesson to tell me it was amazing. I wish there could be an extra blank at the bottom of my evaluation for that one. If only raises could be acquired this way...
I had full intention of snapping a photo after completion of the cake in all its glory to post, but it didn't occur. The whipped mascarpone cream frosting was added to the cake literally minutes before heading out the door to school at 7:23 and my brain doesn't function until 8:25, right when my kiddos flood into my classroom and after a Rockstar (aka 220 milligrams of delicious caffeine). By the time I realized the missed picture, I returned to the staff lounge to find only measly remnants of this cake. Meh, I think I'll take a fully eaten cake over a picture. If you are really curious, google "black forest cake". I am sure you can find one that looks cool and similar to mine.
Man do I wish other things were as easy to google. How about googling the timeline of my life for the next year so I am not in the lovely land of limbo anymore? That might be nice. But alas, I think I will just have to figure that out as it comes. Plus, God beats Google, so I think its all going to be alright. I am so planned, to an extreme. I live by lists and charts and I analyze the breakfast I eat as if this choice will effect the next fifty years of my existence. With this cake, I had even planned out of all the recipes made last week, which one I would blog about and the types of pictures I wanted to capture days before I had ever even baked the cake. Hyper-type-A. Anyone who knows me can attest to that. So, missing this photo event is one small (albeit accidental) step to handing control of this current limbo-life of mine to God, who knows way more about, sees way more of and wants way more from my life then I can ever imagine. I think I'll leave it to him, and let go.
In case your wondering whats next? Since I can't tell you much about whats next in my actual life because I don't know, but I can tell you that me and my favorite cooking buddy are throwing a Superbowl party. You better believe we have an awesome spread, a pinboard on Pinterest about it, pictures planned and probably will make a lovely list of that plan to ensure documentation. Yeah. I'm that kinda type-A. Deal with it. Best part of this party? I only know who is playing because I wanted to make sure that some of the treats where coordinated to their jersey colors. If you aren't coming to our Superbowl party, hope you enjoy your mediocre food and be thinking about ours. Jealous? You probably should be.
Happy bowling of the super kind!
-Me
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