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?

















