Cake is often considered a delicious treat. I know for myself just about every life event has had cake involved. And sometimes, just because. I can remember a cousin come in to visit from Ireland, and my Nana made a cake to honor the day. In fact, her cake is a hand me down recipe in our family. If this cake is not at a family gathering, there are questions asked!
My mother knew that this cake was important. And she wanted to surprise my dad with a cake one night shortly after they got married. My mom had never made a cake (apparently). She made dinners. In fact at the age of 11 she made dinner nightly while her mother went to town to deliver her sixth child. My mother's dinners were not fancy, and actually consisted of beans almost every night. It led to her being nicknamed Lizzy Beans. But she grew from this experience.
On this night, her first self-baked cake night, something went amiss. Now, it could be that there was something about the oven, it was new to her; they had moved into the house after getting married, new appliances can be confusing. Or she just really did not know how to do this. But that night, my mother broiled a cake. She didn't just broil it, she broiled it, stacked it, frosted it, and presented it to my father.
Now, she knew something was wrong. She knew there was something off. She knew she had failed. But she expected my father to say such a thing, to tell her it was horrid.
My darling father took a bite of his dessert. He was going to eat it because his new wife made him a cake. She asked him how it was. His response was "It's okay." My mother was horrified that he would eat such a failure. She took the cake from him and threw the whole thing in the trash. My father has reflected on this day with me, we have giggled about it, and he said that it was a bit crunchy.
I love my mother, and her desire for perfection. I love that, even when she knew it was wrong, she followed through on the process. I also appreciate that she never broiled a cake again. In fact, in my lifetime my mom made some amazing cakes! And even homemade frostings that involved candy thermometers and double broilers. I also appreciate the love of my parents, that my dad would suffer through a horrible food offer to honor his wife's trial and tribulations for him. From both of them, and from this story, I know that it is the journey that we learn from, not just the end result.
