Perfectly Imperfect

This weekend my youngest celebrated his 5th birthday. I can't believe he's that old already. It seems like only yesterday he was a teeny baby. How time flies!

My littles are big fans of home-made cakes. They don't balk at store bought, but every year they kind of assume that mommy is going to make and decorate a cake to their specifications. I try my damndest to make the best cake I can...and I do fairly well....but these cakes are never perfect. There's always something that's a little bit off. Mind you, they taste fine. I'm talking about the aesthetics.

Cake cooling on my messy counter.

Part of my problem is that I love cream cheese frosting and will go out of my way to use it. Even if that means I have to sacrifice the sculptural qualities of buttercream. So....it looks a little gloopy, but tastes oh-so-yummy!

Cream cheese frosting gets even runnier with food coloring.

I don't self-identify as a baker. Sure I make cakes, some breads, and potica. But it's not my passion. I happily follow a recipe and leave it at that. It's not the thing I think about while driving in the car or before I go to sleep, like I do with knitting, sewing, or drawing. I know folks who's baking is an art form, and I reserve the title of "baker" for them.

I, in my own humble, fumbling way...make cakes with more heart than art. And my kids are thrilled. I call it a win. :)

Take care,

Cassandra