It’s a special weekend in our household. It's that time of year again when we sit around the dining table after dinner for a good hour going through all the birthday cake books within the house.
Considering how few cakes we make we certainly have a good range of books to flick through.
There are pages splattered with icing from when I attempted the rainbow balloons cake for Popps’ first birthday, only to serve up a mud cake from the supermarket. There are pages that I think might have tears on them, or smudges as I stayed up til all hours trying to get them right before a party. Some pages have folded dog ears on cakes that little people have really really wanted (but Mummy didn't even attempt). Some books contain little bits of paper where people have numbered the cakes they want for which birthday – it is clear that when it comes to birthdays, Popps is a planner.
It has now become a yearly challenge for Mr H to pick any cake he desires and for me to attempt to make it. This started with the hilarious echidna, jumped to the masterpiece that took me about 47 hours to cook and this year will be something else a little exotic – but simple – he did request the platypus at first, then the log cabin cake – simply because he likes flake, but settled on something more grown up.
Tomorrow, I will be donning my apron, dusting off the cake pans and playing Tiny Turner loudly in the kitchen while I try and get this cake right, either way, in the end, another page of the book will have its own story. I should start adding a photo of the day to each page for historical significance!
If your recipe books could talk, what would they tell me? Did anyone ever make you the log cabin?