Peo went to two birthday parties this weekend. Both served vanilla cake. Yesterday, she liked vanilla cake. Today, she cried when there was no chocolate option, insisting that vanilla is “too filling”. This is probably because yesterday she had lunch, then went to the party, then bowled, then had pizza, then had cake. No amount of logic would dissuade her from the conclusion that vanilla cake is “too filling”.
The only way I could get her to stop crying was to promise her to see if any of the chocolate cake I had in the freezer was still good. I knew I had two 5″ rounds leftover from early December, but wasn’t 100% sure they wouldn’t be freezer-burned.
Thankfully, because of solid wrapping that kept the air off of them, they’re fine. I pulled one out and let it thaw on the counter for about an hour.
But I had no icing in the house, and the mixing bowl is in the pile of dirty dishes that I didn’t feel like getting to this evening. Not that I wanted to make a large batch of buttercream anyway.
So I tossed a generous handful of chocolate chips into a bowl with a tablespoon of butter, microwaved it gradually, and vaguely sort of hand-whipped it with a silicone spatula. Then I slapped that on the mostly-thawed cake and dumped a pile of sprinkles on top. Behold instacake:
Is this going to win any awards for decorating or fancy flavours? No. Is anyone going to wax poetic on the nature of the crumb or decadence of the topping? Hardly. Is this going to launch my career as a professional cake baker? Hah!
But is the six-year-old happy?
And mama’s pretty pleased with the results too.