I flop therefore I am.
Recipe for a Half-Assed Sponge Cake
- 2 tsp cough medicine that "May cause excitability or marked drowsiness."
- Blender with chopping attachment for half of butter and sugar mixing process until you realize your mistake and swap it for the whipping attachment.
- Measuring cup with faded measurements so you can never be sure just how much sugar/flour you're adding.
- 1 cake pan instead of two, because your mix is too stiff and won't fill out two tins.
- A steady hand to shave your half sponge in half (quarters?), so you can continue to beat/chase that dead horse.
- 2 cartons of heavy cream and a carton of ripe strawberries to camouflage/distract from warped cake.
- A healthy sense of humor/more strawberries for when you (sob!) overwhip one carton of cream—the one meant for the top of the cake.
- 2 undiscriminating boys who don't know/care what a sponge cake is supposed to taste and look like.
I don't look too bad from here ...
We all have our bad angles.
An old make-up technique known as "Making the most of what you've got to work with."
Cue Kate Bush: "Don't give up, you still have friends.
Don't give up, you know it's never been easy.
Don't give up, somewhere there's a place where you belong."
The good news is that my bad sponge tasted a lot better than it looked. If you'd like to make a less unfortunate-looking/more sponge-like cake, you can follow Mise's poetic recipe:
"Whisk 3 eggs with 3 oz sugar,
determinedly. Fold in 3 oz of flour.
Bake. Add jam and cream."
I know I will next time.