I'm not big in to video games, but there are a few I really like to play. Tetris is my fave, followed closely by Impossible Mission (anyone remember that game? I used to play it on my dad's Commodore 64). Tony Hawk is decent, and Wii Sports is cool, but my heart lies with Super Mario Bros. I am a pretty serious Super Mario geek, and so are my kids. "Mario Super Brudders", as my son calls it, is all the rage in this household.While I'm pretty good at Super Mario, I'm not all that great at baking. When it comes to cakes, my performance is spotty at best. When I get it right, I can produce a decent cake - no bells, no whistles, just a cake and some icing.
But when I get it wrong...
I get it wrong.
Really wrong.
My family doesn't seem to mind my spectacular cake flops - on the contrary, they've wholeheartedly embraced them. My 'disaster cakes' have become quite a coveted dessert; my brother specifically requests one each year for his birthday. But there's still a part of me that dies a little inside whenever I pull a disaster out of the oven.
It was my daughter's birthday last weekend, and like we've done every other year, we had someone else make the cake. It's just...easier that way. This year, a co-worker of my husband's made us a Super Mario cake, and it was a total fucking masterpiece.
The entire thing was edible - even the mushroom house, which was made of Rice Krispie batter on the inside.
It took us less than fifteen minutes to completely annihilate it, but it was sweet while it lasted.
[photo]
