I was asked to make a cake for my father-in-law’s 60th birthday. After exploring the entirety of the internet, I discovered only three potential recipes worthy of such a milestone. Each had different measurements and ingredients but all claimed the same descriptors. They would be light and fluffy, yet somehow sturdy; moist and soft but still bursting with flavor. My husband was required to participate in my experiment and given only one job, to voice criticisms. He delivered with a performance that paralleled Gordon Ramsey’s ‘idiot sandwich’ bit. After frankensteining the three chosen recipes together we were ready! One day before the party I cooked, assembled, and decorated this masterpiece. This. This is the cake that would be remembered for generations. The grandkids would tell tall tales, recalling where they were on the day they tasted bliss. My family’s taste buds would forever pursue the enlightenment that would come from this one experience.
On the day of the party I was met with “Oohs” and “ahhs” as I place my Mona Lisa center stage for all to see. After much anticipation it was time to sing the obligatory happy birthday song. My hands were shaking; my face flush. The anticipation, too much to bare. Finally, the distinct scent of a tiny fire snuffed. It was time to cut the cake! Pieces of beautiful, perfectly layered dessert shuffled around the table as one landed in front of me. My preparation, my chemistry, my devotion will be rewarded in this one moment. I eagerly lift the loaded plastic fork to my mouth. My husband and I make eyes at each other each silently communicating with each other our… horror! This cake was not soft, or moist or fluffy and worst of all not bursting with flavor! I eat a few pieces, as not to draw attention to myself, as I scan the room and see the disappointment in my kin as well. How could this have happened I think to myself.
22 days later my services were once again requested, this time my mother, for her also 60th birthday. “Would you make me the same cake you made your father-in-law? It sounded really good” she says. Grumbling and prepared for disappointment I reluctantly agree. The next few days I spent glued to my computer to solve my crappy cake problem. I stumble onto an intriguing ingredient I’ve never seen before, Sweetex from Sweet Life Cake and Candy Supply. I receive my order mere days later, packaged in a perfectly air tight container with a beautiful logo. The shortening, crisp white in color. Lacking discipline, I immediately dip a toothpick in to taste what I’m hoping will be my redemption. It’s smooth and slightly sweet, creamy but it doesn’t coat my mouth.
One day before the party as I had done less than a month before I prepare, bake and decorate, this time using Sweetex instead of butter. Party day arrives and I’m hopeful but not as confident. My slice of cake is cut and I take my bite… “It’s good!” I scream as I drop my fork and throw my hands in the air Rocky Balboa style! Eye of the tiger plays in the background. I drop only my eating arm to go for another bite. Everyone in the room so paralyzed by my outburst they can’t try a bite for themselves. “It’s so good” I moan. I pan to the left, see my mom with closed eyes chewing slowly. To my right my brother shoveling cake into his mouth, plate directly between his lips. And I know for certainty that I have discovered the secret to a perfect cake. My only regret is that I ordered only 1 pound of Sweetex from Sweet Life Cake and Candy Supply. But no worries there’s more on the way.
