My Sunday Confession

I’m sure you’ve noticed. I’ve been absent from blogging. The boys and I have spent two and a half weeks with my parents in Missouri.

My confession is that I have not cooked during that time.

Now that I’m home and in my own kitchen I’m in the holiday spirit to start baking. Perhaps it was all the nice holiday travelers who have put the Fa-la-la-la-la into my step, or perhaps it’s the joy of just coming home.


My Sunday Confession

Sometimes my experience in the kitchen is a disaster.  Friday almost ended up as one of those days.

I had invited friends over for dinner.  They were to arrive at 6:30 p.m. My menu was Spicy Fall Pumpkin Stew, Pobalano-Cucumber Salsa, Vegan Coconut Cake.  Here’s how my afternoon turned out:

2:00 Grocery shopping (forgot Peanut Butter, a staple for 2 year olds)
3:00 Start prepping Vegan Coconut Cake
3:10 Searching for Baking Powder (Where is it?)
3:15 2yo grabs coconut milk and spills it all over him and the floor
3:20 2yo demands needing the stool to help me (not helpful)
3:20 Found the Baking Powder!
3:25 Discover the gas for the oven is turned off
3:30 Call husband for directions on turning on the oven
3:31 2yo has melt down
4:00 Place cake batter in cake pans
4:05 Glance across the kitchen and realized the baking powder was CORN STARCH!
4:06 Dump cake batter bake in bowl and mix in baking powder
4:15 Cut new parchment paper for cake pans
4:30 Place batter back in cake pans
4:30 Cake goes into oven
4:40 Baby needs fed
5:00 Cut and prep pumpkin
5:15 Realize I’m out of Cheddar Cheese for pumpkin!
5:29 Cake is finished baking
5:30 Start prepping ingredients for Pumpkin Stew
5:31 Husband arrives home but needs to send out work emails
5:32 Kids are fussy and screaming
6:00 Poblano peppers makes it into the oven for broil
6:01 Text friends to ask if they could arrive at 7:00 p.m.
6:05 Husband leaves to buy Cheddar Cheese
6:30 Stop to soothe fussy baby
6:45 Husband returns with Cheese
6:50 Pumpkin Stew assembled and placed in oven.
6:55 Guests arrive.

At this point I still need to assemble the cake and Poblano-Cucumber Salsa. Luckily it was our good friends Mike and Edlyn who were joining us for dinner, and since Mike is a professional chef he helped me whip everything into shape.

But this is where my confession is given — I planned to blog about the Vegan Coconut Cake, however with my afternoon, something just wasn’t clicking. I forgot that I had changed the icing when I made it before — instead of doing a butter cream, I had done a coconut milk glaze.  Midway through mixing the icing I remembered what I did and tried a compromise — a course correction, I call it.

Not all yummy cakes turn out looking like a beauty.

It didn’t work.

Instead I ended up with a slick icing that didn’t stick to well to the cake. On top of my distractions I had placed the cake on top of the stove, which was warm, and my icing melted.

The result was a cross between a flop and ugly — fuggly.

However this fuggly cake still tasted good, even with corn starch.

My Sunday Confession

As I sit at the computer I can hear my 2 year-old chanting “birthday cake” as he’s watching Curious George downstairs. He’s rather persistant calling up the stairs for someone to bring him birthday cake or “BDC” — a code my husband and I have given it. If he was sitting next to me I can envision him flashing his brilliant blue eyes and charming smile at me with each BDC demand.

Ever since he’s turned two he’s figured out what birthday cake is all about, but in his case, any dessert is called birthday cake.

When I was his age I loved pancakes, a request I made on a daily basis. My mother didn’t want to waste a whole pancake batter on a 3 year-old, so instead she would make me French toast and tell me it was pancakes.

So I’ve taken a page out of my mother’s book. My son now thinks bread with Nutella is birthday cake.  In recent months I’ve covered a layer of peanut butter with Nutella so at least he’s getting some protein during his snack.

This Mom’s heart is a sucker and melts when flashed with blue eyes and a charming smile.  At least I’m not wasting a whole batter of cake for one small slice of birthday cake.