Death of a Wedding Cake Baker
Page 22
I plan on live-tweeting from the wedding reception, so be sure to follow my tweets as I describe how the guests react to Gemma’s perfect wedding cake, because I’m sure, as a completely objective food critic and not the mother of the baker, that her efforts will be a resounding success.
Of course, it hasn’t been an easy road to this moment for Gemma. She did have a few false starts on her journey to becoming a baker. To be honest, I wasn’t the most encouraging cheerleader at first. As a single mother, after working a long day at the office, I would come home, tired and cranky, and would shoo the kids out of the kitchen, because it was faster getting the dinner on the table myself without any overeager kitchen helpers. But the older Gemma got, the more she insisted on learning how to cook, and so I finally relented.
During the first lesson, it quickly became clear she was a very precise and focused chef, measuring the exact amount of sugar or flour according to the recipe, whereas I have always just gone with my gut, a pinch here, a pinch there, whatever I was feeling in the moment. Gemma, on the other hand, treated baking like a science. And let’s face it, any of you who went to school with me know I failed science. Again, not sure where she gets this from.
There were a few hiccups along the way, like the time she didn’t wait for me to come home from work and attempted a batch of peanut butter cookies to surprise me. Unfortunately after putting the tray of cookies in the oven, she forgot about them while chatting on the phone with her best girlfriend, the smoke detector on the kitchen ceiling started screeching, her panicked brother called 911, the fire department showed up sirens blasting, the cookies were burnt like smoking lumps of coal, and, well, you get the picture.
But eventually, as she gained confidence and improved her skills, I felt comfortable leaving her in the kitchen on her own as long as she followed a few simple rules, like keeping a careful eye on the oven, making sure she turned it off when she was done, and never leaving the house at any point while she was baking. After she sighed and groaned, “Yes, Mother!” I finally took off the training wheels and left her in the kitchen with a box of cake mix while I went and had a cocktail with the girls at Drinks Like a Fish.
Once I was gone, she set about making her chocolate cake, stirring the batter while preheating the oven to the desired temperature. Once the cake was evenly poured into the cake tin, she turned around and opened the oven door, ready to slide the tin onto the rack, when black smoke billowed out, nearly choking her to death.
Unbeknownst to Gemma, the night before, with very little space in my refrigerator and a lot of leftover pizza from dinner, I had shoved the cardboard pizza box with the three remaining slices in the oven (as a rule, throwing out pizza is never an option). And unfortunately, with the oven temperature at 350, the box was about to burst into flames.
Using a pot holder, Gemma reached in and grabbed the end of the box that wasn’t turning black and yanked it out of the oven, but instead of running and dumping it in the sink, she just flung it at the sink, almost inadvertently beaning my cat, Blueberry, who was sitting atop the kitchen counter, in the head! In recounting the horrible episode, Gemma said she never saw our obese cat move so fast. Unfortunately, the burning pizza box didn’t quite make it. It bounced right off the counter and onto my new throw rug that was on the floor in front of the sink. You can probably guess what happened next. The rug promptly caught fire.
My baby girl had a major meltdown at this point, screaming and crying, not sure what to do. Her brother, Dustin, who reads a lot of superhero comic books, bounded into the kitchen ready to save the day. He ran to the refrigerator, grabbed a plastic gallon container of milk, and started to douse the fire. Milk flew everywhere, drenching an already jittery and miserable Blueberry, as well as my dog, Leroy, who was nearby watching the disaster unfold.
About that time, Gemma finally got her wits back and scooped up the sink sprayer, using it like a fire hose. She sprayed a heavy stream of water on the flames while her brother, on the opposite side, splattered milk all over her face.
That’s when I walked through the back door. Before I could even open my mouth to speak, Gemma dissolved into a flood of tears, begging for my forgiveness, ready to accept any punishment as long as she could have a second chance to bake again.
As we cleaned up the mess and Gemma finally baked her cake, I told my daughter the only one who needed to be punished was me, for putting a cardboard pizza box in a working oven and forgetting to tell anyone about it. I could have burned our whole house down!
In fact, the three of us laughed about it all night as we gorged on fresh pizza that we had delivered and Gemma’s delicious chocolate cake fresh from the oven, which we ate with glasses of milk (only half full, since our milk supply was suddenly low).
We’re a long way from that day, and I am happy to report Gemma is flawless now when it comes to baking. So with her permission, today I’m going to share with you her recipe for the specially designed cake she baked for Liddy’s wedding. Spoiler alert: It was a big success. Okay, truth be told, I wouldn’t really know that yet, since we’re still a few days out from the actual wedding, but I’ve always been an optimist! I have a good feeling that both Gemma’s cake and Liddy’s wedding will go down in Bar Harbor history as memorable in the best possible ways!
Before we get to the cake, any baker will tell you it’s vitally important to have something to wash it down with, so I suggest we have one of my favorites, boozy iced coffee!
BOOZY ICED COFFEE
Ice
1 ounce Kahlúa
1 ounce vodka
1 ounce cream
6 ounces coffee
Fill tall glass with ice cubes, then add the rest of the ingredients. Mix well, sip, and enjoy!
VANILLA CAKE WITH RASPBERRY FILLING
& LEMON BUTTERCREAM FROSTING
CAKE
1 cup softened butter
1½ cups sugar
4 large eggs, room temperature
3 cups cake flour, sifted
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
One 10-ounce jar raspberry preserves
In a stand mixer, beat the butter on medium speed until creamy. Gradually add your sugar and vanilla extract, continuing to beat well. Add the eggs one at a time, beating in between. Combine the flour, baking powder, and salt and add to your butter mixture, alternating with your milk, mixing at low speed until blended. With a spatula, scrape down the sides and stir to make sure the batter is all combined.
Preheat oven to 350°F. Pour your batter into three greased and floured 9-inch round cake pans. Bake in oven for 25 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool your cakes for 15 minutes, then remove from pans and let the cakes cool completely on wire racks.
When the cakes are cool, slice each cake horizontally so you end up with six layers. Place the first layer on your cake plate cut side up and spread two to three tablespoons of the raspberry preserves over the whole cake. Repeat this with the next layers, except leave the top one plain.
LEMON BUTTERCREAM FROSTING
1½ cups softened butter
1 tablespoon lemon zest
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
3 cups powdered sugar
Beat your butter, lemon zest, and lemon juice in your mixing bowl at medium speed until creamy. Gradually add the powdered sugar, beating until it is your desired consistency. Spread it on your cake and dig in!
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