It’s not my birthday (don’t worry, I would never let you forget). Last night, the ECBF and I went to a birthday party for Dr. Long, a friend of ours. It was at this great restaurant in Selkirk, Benjamin’s. I highly recommend a visit if you haven’t been there yet. Wow. It was good eating, that’s for sure.
Doc’s daughter, Ashley, made his birthday cake. Spice cake – his favourite. It really was a beautiful cake.
When I complimented her on it I knew right away, as soon as I saw her face, she was one of us. She wasn’t in love with the cake. It was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Better than anyone else could have done. And she didn’t love it. As soon as you fall out of love with a cake you’ve been working on, lost sleep over, been thinking about for a week or more, it doesn’t matter how gorgeous it is, or how many people gush over it, it’s not good enough.
I love baking. I love cakes (I have a love/hate relationship with cakes, who am I kidding). I love baking and making beautiful cakes. But if I fall out of love with one, I can tweak, and primp and fuss over it until daylight, but I won’t ever be happy and FOR SURE, I won’t be proud of it. Those aren’t the cake wrecks I blog about – those are just…the ones I don’t love.
Ashley also made spice cupcakes. Wow.
I made a rare grain-exemption to shovel down not one but two cupcakes. Delicious.