Birthday Cake Blues

Out of nowhere, Larry requested a Victoria Sponge cake as his birthday cake.  Of all the baking I do, I’ve never made one of these (probably because if I want squishy white cake I default to Angel Food cake) but I agreed. 

So there I am, mixing up a nice creamy batter when I reach for my springform pan.  And realise it’s most definitely a size too big.  But now I’m in the middle of it and I’m not going to run out for two smaller pans, so I decide he’s just going to get one cake and I’ll split the middle later.  

Into the oven goes the pan and 35 minutes later a deliciously moist cake comes out smelling heavenly.  It really is a triumph.  Such a triumph that I can’t bear to split the middle and mess with it.  I think about sifting powdered sugar over the top and even writing on it with coloured icing, but since I wasn’t planning on such tactics my supplies are a little low.  Plus, I figure that would be really dry and boring.  Instead I decide to “ice” the cake with whipped cream and decorate it with the raspberries and strawberries I was going to slip in as an extra layer.    So that’s just what I do. 

Larry comes home and eyes my little creation with an indulgent smile.  I know he’s wondering what the hell happened to his traditional Victoria Sponge.  But he makes himself a cup of tea, cuts a big slice and smiles appreciatively after the first forkful.

“This is really good,” he decides.  “Really good.  Like a 9 on a scale of 1 to 10.”

As I wonder when he started judging his birthday cakes he takes another bite and opens his mouth again.  “But I’ve got to tell you, I think the presentation was more like a 4.”

So, friends, mark my words.  Next year not only will I be getting my first home made birthday cake from Laurence, but I’m printing up report cards to accompany it.

And I’m contemplating a Seven Layer Cake.