Boo turns 13 today. 13. That mystical age where a child absorbs all the knowledge in the world, becoming both genius and sage...while said child's parents turn into complete babbling idiots who know nothing, never knew anything, and will never learn or know anything, ever. Because we just don't understand!
Birthdays require cake, so I made a layer cake this morning. Usually, if the boys have a birthday party I wuss out and make a rectangle cake, only requiring frosting on the top. Or icing. Frosting. Icing. Is there a regional difference? My past attempts at layer cakes usually result in a sadly misshapen, leaning lump of cooked cake, with the outside frosting infiltrated with bumps and crumbs and small bits of cake. Not a very appetizing presentation.
For Boo's birthday, I'm expecting an even more unappetizing presentation, as his cake will have a mint buttercream frosting. And of course, nothing screams MINT!!!!! like green food coloring, which, of course, requires a special trip to the Ack-a-me, because the concept of "food coloring"--whereby a normal-colored food is transformed into an even more delicious NEON color--is lost on me.
The cake is done and cooling now, the devil's food.
My mother used to make a flour icing, with flour, sugar, butter and frigging Crisco. Crisco! A half a cup of white grease! This is a frosting made famous during World War II, when people ate Crisco by the spoonfuls to support the war effort. It sounds horrible, but it's really good on the devil's food. Not too sweet.
That's why I don't like canned frosting, unless I'm eating it directly out of the can like Crisco. Canned frosting is too sweet for cake. It's designed for direct can-to-mouth consumption.
Kids don't care, though; they don't know about the hardship and painstaking effort that's required to make the perfect frosting/icing. They can't tell the difference between canned and homemade. They don't care about the effort you put into the misshapen cake, or how many times you had to make the icing before it was just the right consistency. No matter how many times you tell them that homemade is and always will be superior to "store-bought" or "canned" or "BJs brand"...they don't care. They can't tell.
Birthdays require cake, so I made a layer cake this morning. Usually, if the boys have a birthday party I wuss out and make a rectangle cake, only requiring frosting on the top. Or icing. Frosting. Icing. Is there a regional difference? My past attempts at layer cakes usually result in a sadly misshapen, leaning lump of cooked cake, with the outside frosting infiltrated with bumps and crumbs and small bits of cake. Not a very appetizing presentation.
For Boo's birthday, I'm expecting an even more unappetizing presentation, as his cake will have a mint buttercream frosting. And of course, nothing screams MINT!!!!! like green food coloring, which, of course, requires a special trip to the Ack-a-me, because the concept of "food coloring"--whereby a normal-colored food is transformed into an even more delicious NEON color--is lost on me.
The cake is done and cooling now, the devil's food.
My mother used to make a flour icing, with flour, sugar, butter and frigging Crisco. Crisco! A half a cup of white grease! This is a frosting made famous during World War II, when people ate Crisco by the spoonfuls to support the war effort. It sounds horrible, but it's really good on the devil's food. Not too sweet.
That's why I don't like canned frosting, unless I'm eating it directly out of the can like Crisco. Canned frosting is too sweet for cake. It's designed for direct can-to-mouth consumption.
Kids don't care, though; they don't know about the hardship and painstaking effort that's required to make the perfect frosting/icing. They can't tell the difference between canned and homemade. They don't care about the effort you put into the misshapen cake, or how many times you had to make the icing before it was just the right consistency. No matter how many times you tell them that homemade is and always will be superior to "store-bought" or "canned" or "BJs brand"...they don't care. They can't tell.
They just don't understand.
5 comments:
13 is a lovely age. I never noticed before that you call E. "Boo". We call B. that too. From when she was little and we called her Becca-boo.
Anyway, congrats on the cake. Don't worry about the stupid part, it wears off in a few years.
H.
PS Nice picture.
I don't know how I came by Boo, but it started young. Of course, I can now only call him that infrequently and in private.
What, you mean I'll stop being stupid in a few years? Cool!
Wow, you made that cake from NOTHING! That's cool. The cake was very good, btw...not necessarily to the eye, but to the taste, which is what matters. Crisco is great, ain't it? I like to use it as a hair gel. "Boo" came from "you and me and a boy named Boo..." way back when you and I genuinely liked each other. asphinctersayswhat?
...Excellent...
Sorry, I didn't mean to get your hopes up too high - you'll only be less stupid to your oldest. Your youngest will be hitting the "my parents are morons and know nothing" stage probably the same exact time your oldest will see a glimmer of non-idiocy in you. You have several years of stupidity ahead.
H.
OMG, is THIS where it came from?
"Me and you and a dog named Boo
Travelin' and a livin' off the land
Me and you and a dog named Boo
How I love being a free man."
Jesus Harold Christ on rubber crutches, what were we thinking?!
H, thanks for the heads-up. I can draw up my battle plans accordingly.
Post a Comment