Caramel Apple Cake = Epic Fail

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

I love to bake.  Every holiday that comes around gives me an opportunity to bake with reckless abandon.  This Thanksgiving was no different.  After a LONG night of parent teacher conference at work on Tuesday, I woke up Wednesday morning ready to research my latest baking journey or should I say shit show?

I pride myself on my baking ability.  I'm not one to toot my own horn, but I am damn fine baker. 

Cupcakes for my sister in law's baby shower, my youngest's garbage truck cake, Oreo balls for Christmas, all awesome examples of my awesomeness.  I could go on but I'll spare you the expense, since I had my worst baking disaster in history.  (Okay, maybe that's a little dramatic, yet somehow totally necessary.)

After a little research I came across this beautiful cake called a Caramel Apple Cake.  It had an ingredients list at least a mile long, but I fell in love with the picture, so I didn't care.  I made a list, sent BJ to the store; $50 and five hours later the cake was done...but not really.  

The cake part was fine.  I poured the batter into three 8 inch round pans, baked it according to the ridiculous specifications, cooled it for the specified amount of time and removed them from the pans without any of the cake getting stuck.  I nearly high-fived myself.  Success!  But again...not really.  I didn't know it at the time, but it was about to turn ugly.

The directions for the frosting were a little sketchy, but I went with it.  Now, I've made buttercream frosting more times than I can count and I have never come across a recipe that was this complicated.  After spending another two hours on this damn recipe; the frosting was like soup.  I used all my baking knowledge to thicken it.  All my attempts were failures.  Instead of dumping the frosting and starting over, I decided to try and make it work.  "Try" being the operative word here.

As I began to slather on the sludge, I mean, frosting I knew it was not going to work.  It just wasn't thick enough.  Before tossing it into the garbage, I called BJ upstairs and surprisingly, even though he was in the middle of watching TV, he came.

Here's how the conversation went:

Me: I'm throwing it out.  It sucks.

BJ: Before you toss it, cut me a piece.

Me: Okay. (Grab knife, slice into cake and sloppily toss it onto a plate.)

BJ: (Taking a bite)  This is really good.  Too bad it looks like that. (Indicating toward the sludgy mess on the counter.)

Me: Well, I'm throwing it out.

BJ: (Slightly appalled.)  No, don't!  

Me: Where am I going to put it?

BJ: I don't care.  Just put it in a bucket.  I'll eat it.

Just as BJ was saying that I should put the cake in a bucket, a large chunk of it slides off the counter, bounces off the dishwasher handle, and lands with a satisfying "plop" on the ground.

Hilarity ensures.  

Me: I'm throwing it out.

BJ: Go ahead, but cut me another piece before you do.

This is why I love him.  His unconditional support even when I suck!

Here is a picture of what the cake should have looked like:
Yummy, right?

Here is what my cake looked like:

So, Happy Thanksgiving everyone!  And I hope my family is cool with only one dessert this year because I am done!

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