The Icing On The Cake

Late last week, J–who, until recently, was considering a Culinary Arts major in college (he decided that he’d rather go towards music/business, and be an excellent hobby cook instead!)–came to me and said, “Hey mom, would you be interested in helping me make a cake for H (his girlfriend) this weekend?”

The question shocked me a little bit, because it’s been ages since we’ve had the time around here to even consider spending time in the kitchen, let alone together. I was thrilled that he asked me, and I vowed to make the time.

I asked him what kind of cake he wanted to make, and he said he had to think about it. In the meantime, I suddenly remembered something: I had a Harry Potter cake pan that I used once for one of D’s birthdays ages ago, and never again. H happens to be a Harry Potter fanatic. (Way beyond a fanatic, actually.)

J is quite capable of making a rainbow cake, because he’s an excellent cook and baker already, but he’s never frosted a cake with icing bags and tips. I told J about the Harry Potter cake pan, and he was really excited. I was psyched about teaching my kid how to decorate a cake, just like my mom did with me ages (and ages) ago.

As I suspected he would be, he was a natural.

It was really fun, working on the cake together and it felt very “zen”. It was an excellent break from all the pandemonium that has become the normal in this house. Decorating the cake together took about ninety minutes, and as we finished up, we both stood back from it, arms crossed over our chests as we inspected it, happy with the outcome.

The cake turned out pretty darn fantastically, don’t you think?

Of course, it wouldn’t be a traditional birthday cake around here without trick candles, which, as it turns out, aren’t as fun for a teenaged girl when the cake is presented by her boyfriend. Go figure.