Other then the occasional batch of delicious cookies, I really don't bake. Yes, I have carefully combined ingredients for a few pies and cakes over the years, following the recipe precisely, just hoping for okay results ... well, I love to cook ... bake, not so much. Today, V and I worked together on a box cake, carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, also bought ready to go. We did every little step exactly per the instructions. Once the two 9" pans came out of the oven my job was over ... she loves to decorate cakes. Then, she needed my help because one cake was stuck to the pan. I really botched it. The cake came out with probably a third still stuck, and structurally it was severly compromised. I suggested chucks of cake be scooped in to pretty glass bowls and icing piped between layers. Maybe bury the whole mess under a blanket of candied pecans. No. She was adamantly no go on that idea. She figured out how to spatula up large enough pieces to create some semblance of a bottom layer. Once we had it on the cake platter she cut me loose. I was absolutely amazed when I saw her finished cake. It looked really great. Not lopsided or cratered ... really just kinda perfect.
After lunch I offered to serve dessert, and remembered last week at a women's salad/dessert fellowship someone asked me if I know how to properly cut a cake. And yes, of course I do. My momma would be appalled to hear that I was quizzed on such a basic life skill (was also tested on how to place silverware... never mind that we were using plastic! ... if it weren't actually in the church house I probably woulda said I know how to do all kinds of shit that would amaze you ladies, but where I come from we don't make a game of minding other's manners ... yes, I should be in church every time the doors open ... ). All three of my daughters were at the table when I casually said, "This is how my momma taught me to slice and serve cake ... ". All eyes on the lovely old silver cake server. ... And with the first slice the cake collapsed on the platter and I started laughing (remembering the conversation up at the church ... pride does seem to come before the fall!) You have never seen such a sticky delicious mess ... Two tubs of frosting were under girding the cake glops. I cut in to the worst of it. C was narrating my procedure as though for an audience at iron chef ... too funny, and stage whispering "Ummm, Mom, I don't believe the use of a fork to assist the serving piece is actually proper cake etiquette". There were cake pieces and plops of cream cheese frosting a-l-l over the dessert plates and the table. I had to stop to wipe the laughter out of my eyes several times, but finally everyone was served. And ... it tasted just fine.