I baked a cake the other day, it had been awhile. Ever since cupcakes went mainstream I’ve just used them as a go-to when a friend’s birthday rolls around or just when I feel like eating something downright cakey. This time I couldn’t find my muffin tin and had made some perfect cupcake batter so I figured, what the heck, let’s take it full cake on this one.
As the cakes cooled I whipped up some epic dairy free strawberry and chocolate frosting and started to get really excited. After all, what former fat kid doesn’t get excited when there’s a bowl of frosting sitting in front of them and the smell of fresh cake emanating from the oven. I was so excited in fact that I flipped the cake over too soon and turned it into a mountain of failure crumbs instead of the gorgeous, sharp edged cake that I had imagined delicately smearing oodles of frosting onto.
Sitting there, staring at the disaster of a cake that I had created I felt deflated. I just looked at it as it cooled thinking about what a failure I was and what a failure this cake was but I would still frost it because I had created a perfect consistency of frosting and something like that just can’t go to waste. I frosted the cake and tried my hardest to make it look somewhat presentable using the sugar laden glue that I had whipped up to hold sliding pieces in place. Frankencake. That is what I had created in my kitchen that day. It was hideous. The strawberry and chocolate frosting had started to become molten goo in one abstract, unattractive brownish color and the whole thing was sort of tilting off to one side.
So I cut into it, I cut a slice and I put the little triangle onto a plate. I looked down, sunk my fork in and guess what? It was still delicious despite what my already established view of cake had deemed as ugliness. My cake had been through some trauma that adjusted it’s appearance but there was still cake on the inside and frosting on the outside. Despite all of the trials that have made my cake absolutely hideous to look at from a subjective perspective, all of the effort that went into the creation of the cake still paid off. It still tasted like delicious, light and fluffy vanilla cake drowning in decadent frostings.
It just goes to show you, you can’t judge a cake by it’s frosting. And you can’t judge a person by your own perception of personness. We’re all delicious.