Not to toot my own horn or anything, but seriously. This cake… whoa. This cake has built an empire in my imagination because I didn’t eat ANY OF IT. So I can only imagine how lovely it was. And as long as we’re forced to imagine it’s greatness, I might as well assume it was the best. Thing. Ever.
My pal at work asked me to bake a cake for our friend’s lowkey surprise birthday gathering, so even though I had plans to galavant around San Juan Island, I agreed to make it anyhow. I almost got really lazy and thought, “I’m not even going to be there…and no one will even notice if I buy the mix!” But honestly THAT’S NEVER TRUE and I wasn’t doing much that day besides watching Gordon Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares on netflix, so… it’s not like I was swamped or anything. As usual I turned to Bittman’s How to Cook Everything, because it is my bible and I trust every word it says. Some serious pan flouring, egg white whipping, and chocolate melting later, here we were.
The only problem was that I had to drop off the cake in the morning since I was leaving for the island in the afternoon, and by 10 am the strawberries were all I’M TIRRRRRED and plopping off the cake left and right. Refrigerating it seemed to make it worse, but luckily C thought of toothpicks (toothpicks? Really, I couldn’t have thought of that? STUPID.) to hold the berries in place until the evening. Everywhere the strawberries fell they left a trail of gooey chocolatey slime, which actually tasted amazing but was hell to look at… nothing some paper towel couldn’t take care of. Realistically this cake was probably “good!” but I’m going to go ahead and assume that everyone’s reaction upon taking the first bites of my cake were, “HOLY BALLS I NEVER TASTED ANYTHING SO MAGICAL IN MY LIIIIIIFE!” Here’s hopin’.