It's that time again, the one day of the year when I show off to the world that no, I do not have the Martha Stewart, Pinterest approved decorating skills. Cakes and the art of making them pretty is something I have never and will never be able to accomplish. I should have my piping bag (which I never use) locked up (way ahead of you), and have the rank of lady stripped from my name because I cannot frost a cake.
But I still try for my husband because he's always celebrated with a banana cake for his birthday and I guess I love him and stuff. Shut up!
This being the internet and all, you can laugh at my failure along with me. This is the 2016 birthday cake.
I've never had a proper arch-nemesis before but this cake was pushing close to that title. I don't know what it was that I did to anger the baking gods, but I cursed a storm at the batter that splattered all over the place and the baked cakes that decided they rather enjoyed being in the pan and had no intention to leave.
But, after the liberal use of threats by butter knife, I finally scrapped both out and it was time for frosting.
Once again, the cake proved wilier than I anticipated. I think there's still chocolate frosting on the ceiling somewhere. After employing both spatula, spreader, and my fingers I managed to shellac the cake in a coating of chocolate cream cheese frosting. Next time I'm using a trowel and a caulk gun. It'd probably go better.
As for the decorations... We've been in a bit of a Fallout rut here lately, so I suppose this is my landscape/post apocalyptic cake.
There's a beautiful sea teaming with shark corpses:
The only bit of green laden in flattened turtle shells (good for the radioactive soil):
And in the deserts, there was a raider attack on the settlement of the gingerbread people. (Yes, that is food dye to mimic blood, I am that twisted)
Also, due to sprinkle incompetence, a shark is buried in the middle of the mountain range. Try to explain THAT science!
But, what's the fun of the cake without remembering ghosts of birthday cake past. Prepare your nostalgia goggles because here they come.