Of course I helped her, what kind of mother do you think I am? It was a delightful joint effort that I hope she remembers for all of her sweet days on this beautiful earth or at least for a month.
Oh, what fun we had! I made her do all the stuff I hate.
Like buttering the cake pans. How I dearly despise buttering cake pans. Don’t ever tell my kids this, but my #1 reason for having children was to be able to someday delegate that loathsome chore. My friends, that day as arrived. I cannot describe the weight that has been lifted off my shoulders now that one of my children can complete this slimy and horrid task. It makes everything TOTALLY worth it, even the ring of fire. If you don’t know what that is, don’t google it. It will be awkward for you when next we meet.
“Alice, will you please butter and flour the cake pans for me?”
“Because I made you. Please just do it.”
Notice that I said please. Because I am nice.
“Oh, and also, can you cut this pound of butter up and add it to the meringue?”
“Sure, Mom. I love you. You’re the best. Thanks for letting me touch butter with my bare hands.”
“No problem, kiddo. You owe me big time, though."
"And if you're nice to your little brother while the cakes are baking, I'll let you frost the cake, too!"
"How am I EVER going to get these cakes frosted?"
And this is the part where you probably expect me to post the recipe.
Ok. I am lazy. Obviously. I make my kid bake cakes for me instead of baking them myself. Therefore, I’m not going to type out the somewhat-involved recipes for the cake and the buttercream. If you want the recipes, please leave a comment, and I’ll figure out a way to get them to you. Alternatively, you can wait a few years until Alice learns to type and then I’ll command her to type those beasts out and email it to you.
Here are the components:
Cake: “Old-Fashioned Chocolate Layer Cake” from America’s Test Kitchen’s The New Best Recipe
Filling: Smucker’s Raspberry jelly, or any jelly that doesn’t have lumps.
Frosting: “Vanilla Buttercream Frosting” from Gourmet Today by Ruth Reichl
General directions: Bake the cake, doubling the recipe. I know. I’m crazy. Cut each of the four cakes in half so you have eight layers. (Don’t let your three-year-old do that.)
Put your first layer on the cake plate. Cover it with frosting. Spread raspberry jam on a different layer, then turn that layer upside down and place it on the first layer, so the raspberry layer is touching the buttercream layer. Repeat. Repeat many, many times, until all eight layers are stacked. It is your choice whether to frost the sides of the cake or leave the glorious bounty of the eight layers visible for all to see.
And of course, make someone else do the dishes. You deserve it.