Easy as cake? I think not!

Let me preface this entry by saying that I know WKMTZ is designed for us to post restaurant reviews. But I'm in Davis right now and that isn't really possible, since any Davis restaurants I review are probably of no consequence to you. You may, however, some day have to suffer through my cooking.

I raised to believe that cakes should celebrate something. Yesterday I decided to celebrate my love of chocolate by baking my first cake ever-- a Grand Fudge Cake with a recipe from Ghirardelli.

Not since the ant infestation of 1999 has the Dehar family witnessed such a disaster. I made the cake competently and followed all of the directions, including the ones that seemed superfluous to me ("alternate adding the flour/sugar mixture and the milk, beginning and ending with the flour").

Not a perfectionist so much as a person with self-diagnosed obsessive-compulsive disorder, once I ran out of confectioner's sugar for the frosting I decided to start ad-libbing all sorts of recipe ingredients and amounts because in my heart I knew that Perfection, that fickle monster, had escaped my grasp. I used regular sugar instead, giving the frosting a texture that sand dunes would consider too grainy.

Things went from bad to worse when the finished cakes wouldn't come out of the pans. I let them cool for an hour, and then I stuck them in the freezer in hopes of loosening them that way (first hardening them, then scooping the damn things out). This only served to freeze the non-stick cooking spray, meaning that the cake would never come out in one piece. So I scooped out what cake I could, hoping to cover up my mistakes with the sweet-tooth's makeup, frosting.

The result was lop-sided and badly frosted with bad frosting. I could take a picture of my cake, but I think I would lose everyone's respect.

I was so embarrassed with my effort (I know I don't have to earn my family's love, but it helps when they aren't ashamed of you) that I tried to cover up the uneven frosting with shavings of Valrhona chocolate. But I was cheap and wanted the Valrhona all to myself, so I only covered the top and gave up.

Then I placed my cake underneath a stainless steel cover and sat on the couch, afraid of my creation. I think I know how Frankenstein felt.

-->Ravi