Coworker: Terry, was there something wrong with that cake?
Me: What do you mean by wrong?
Coworker: Was it what you had planned going into it?
Me: No, not by any means.  What made you think that?
Coworker: Well, the chocolate later over the graham cracker came out of nowhere and the cake bits were too square.  You usually don’t go for presentation so we though maybe you dropped it and made that instead.
Me: Nah, it just cooked oddly so I had to cut it up ahead of time and find something to do with it.
Coworker: And you probably just had some strawberries lying around?  They seemed pretty sweet and that’s a sign that they’re near the end of their life.
Me: That’s pretty astute.  Any thoughts?
Coworker: Ditch the dark chocolate, otherwise everyone in marketing likes what we’ve dubbed your MacGuyver cake.

Coworker: You’ve brought in pineapple upside down cake before, aren’t you going to try something new?
Me: People seem to like it, and it’s easy to make.  Was there a problem with it?
Coworker: No.
Me: How many pieces did you have?
Coworker: … two, but the second one wasn’t that big.

I’m going to continue to bring in pineapple upside down cake.

I’m not a big fan of Presidents’ Day.  I recognize it as a compromise for giving kids off twice, once for Washington and once for Lincoln but the idea of lumping the 44 of them together is unappetizing.  On top of this, a day to celebrate the office of the president absolutely smacks of royalty.  Our government purports to be meritocratic and democratic and not all holders of the office deserve recognition.  Jefferson and Buchanan occupied the same office but are not in the same league.  I was airing my grievances against the holiday as a friend of a tenant listened politely:

Her:  Presidents’ Day to me mean I get to make my mom’s American Flag cake in winter rather than waiting for the 4th. *Shows cake carrier* We’re having it with dinner.

Suddenly I’m largely ok with Presidents’ Day.

I brought in a spiced apple cake yesterday but I arrived somewhat late and it wasn’t completely consumed.  At the end of work today there was a single piece left at 6 PM and my boss’s boss commented that it was sad that there was one piece left alone.  I replied “I don’t consider it to be a piece, so much as a monument to the pieces who went before it”.  He nodded in agreement and we bowed our heads a bit.  With that, I downed the memorial piece.  I wish all monuments tasted this good.

I’m not one to protest cake combinations but today’s rasberry chocolate vanilla pound cake was simply a travesty.  The cake used a royal icing which consists mostly of powdered sugar and egg whites.  The lack of an emulsifier or other softening agent creates a frosting that could be used to forge a murder weapon.  Being one of the lucky ones, I landed a corner rose only to howl in pain when the rose/spear hit the portion of my gums recovering from being hit by my overzealous toothbrush.  Lesson learned, piece two received a haircut and the office praised me for my wisdom.

The the vanilla on raspberry on chocolate.  Any two of those layers together tasted fine as later confirmed by rigorous empirical testing but the three together somehow created a melange of tongue violence.  Normally, when there’s a fight over the last piece until volumetric deference kicks in and it is brought to me by supplicants, no longer.  Today, this amalgamation of sheets made me fail in my role of gourmand of justice. :-(

Normally I prepare enough icing for my carrot cakes such that I can make one cut, ice two layers and have enough that my dad, brother, dog, cat, and brother’s girlfriend can each take a massive fingerful of the whipped cream cheese icing.

I prepared a cake tonight for work as I’d never bake a proper “congradulations, you shot out a baby” cake for coworker’s now six-month old (I was busy) but at 2 AM there’s few beaterlickers about.  There’s a ridiculous amount of icing on the cake.  I could have easily iced a 3rd layer or possibly another cake.  There’s a spot where it’s an inch deep.  It’s more like someone made an icing cake and dumped a carrot cake on it.  I did some work to try and make it less obvious so there’s a slight shelf where the icing extends beyond the cake forming either an icing overhang or an icing hat, depending on your vantage.  I left the cake out, homing my cat would go to town on it, no dice.  With a pound of cream cheese, 2/3 pound of sugar and a fresh stick of butter I may be responsible for either killing, or inducing diabetes in several of my coworkers.

Bonus Story:  My cake recipe involves about 200 grams of whole vanilla yogurt which I thought I had.  Well, having what is vanilla yogurt and having what was vanilla yogurt and is now an affront to both a just and loving God and baking soda is another.  I went to Wawa to get some yogurt and they had no whole or low fat vanilla yogurt, just non-fat which uses artificial sweeteners that taste like burning tires post-baking.  I grabbed a 230 g container of peach fruit-on-the-bottom yogurt and proceded to checkout, where the checkout agent put it in a bag.  I was so dumbfounded that my single serving of yogurt received a bag, I didn’t object like I normally do.

I go home, and start spooning out the yogurt and hit the peach part with only 180 grams of usable yogurt.  I’m not going back to Wawa to purchase another single serving of yogurt so I look around for a yogurt substitute.  I wondering if any of my coworkers will identify the 20 grams of mayonnaise in the carrot cake.