Apparently, the angel food cake gods did not choose to smile upon me. Angel food cake is usually taller. And more handsome.
Everything seemed to go okay.
Separated the egg whites from the yolks – no problem. Whipped them up with my trusty KitchenAid mixer – I love you. Froth was made. Soft peaks were formed. The flour mixture was ever so gently folded in. In fourths, no less. Then baked. All was still good. Then came the cooling. Back in the day, grandma would stick the upside-down pan atop a glass Coca-Cola bottle for the cooling process. No such creature here, but the pan I have can be turned over and stands on these little, built-in pegs. So over it went, on top of my cooling rack. Perfect. About 20 minutes later I hear a fwuump sound, but thought it was the dog, flopping down on her pillow in the corner of the kitchen. After about an hour, I go to check on the cake. It’s laying there, all lifeless and limp, on the rack. It was the sorriest excuse for an angel food cake I’ve ever seen. Luckily, if you can even say that, it came out in one piece, no chunks missing, stuck up in the pan – been there, done that. But….seriously, what the crap did I do wrong, Betty Crocker? I followed your damn recipe to a T and this is what I get? It looks pretty, sure, but none of the fluffy, angel-ly goodness I was expecting. It was a dense as a sponge. Tasted good, but dammit, I wanted perfection. I wanted the children to fall to their knees in praise of me. I wanted…I don’t know what I wanted. I just wanted a good F-ing angel food cake. You let me down, Betty.
Now… on to the icing. Another 3 egg whites and a mind-numbing amount of sugar, that I had to boil into a syrup, thank you very much. More whipping, beating and peaking, then streaming the sugar syrup into it until it was sticky, white heaven.
Okay, the icing was awesome. Not from a high-on-the-nutritional-food-chart kind of awesome, but sweet tooth-satisfying awesome. It turned out – oh yeah -perfect. My husband, who after he saw the cake flop, said, ” That cake is fine, I like it like that ’cause that means there will be more frosting, right?” He is worse than the kids about frosting. Even worse beacuse he claims not to like sweets. Whatever, dear. Anywho, there is about an inch of solid
goo yummy goodness on every surface of that damn cake.
The weird thing about this icing is that it is very sticky but hardens up almost immediately. In the picture it looks as if it’s melting, but in reality, you could almost bounce a gummy bear off it and not make a mark. No, I didn’t try it…
I wanted to...
I was out of gummy bears.
Everyone liked the cake, birthday-boy, especially. But little-man, I think, liked it the best. And I have the picture to prove it.
So, maybe, after all, it was worth saving the $2.50. Anyway, happy birthday, honey. Next year, dear, cake-from-a-box. I’m stocking up right now.