Thus, I was quite disappointed that my cakes turned into total disasters this evening. The creation of the batter went smoothly enough, but things went awry once the cakes made it into the oven. To start, my standard 9" cake rounds were apparently too shallow for the baker at Williams and Sonoma who wrote my recipe. The batter bubbled up and over the edges with as much gusto as a volcanic hot spring bursting unceremoniously through a rocky hillside. This batter proceeded to spill over the bottom of my mother's oven, resulting in a nice smokey glow when I peeked through the oven window. On opening the over door, said smoke rapidly filled the kitchen, and it was apparent that the cake was still very, very unbaked.
After 20 minutes of extra baking time, I ended up with two rather dumpy looking cakes, and a kitchen embellished with smoke. I'm not completely sure what went wrong. Initially I was concerned that I had overbeaten the egg whites (and I probably did) but that would have prevented the cake from rising, or limited its rise. Thus, my baking autopsy suggests that the recipe author was smoking something when writing it.
In other news, I have been on the road and living out of a suitcase for the past few weeks, so I am trying to keep zen by mindfully appreciating the craft things around me. I am inspired by my collection of buttons, lying like little soldiers at the wait, ready to be called to duty.
However, the luxury hat will have to wait. For now, I shall continue to slog away at the blanket, and maybe squeeze in a jumper for a baby only two months away from joining us.