Every year, I ask Tom what kind of cake he wants for his birthday. Because, unlike most people, he isn't partial to one flavor or type. What he does enjoy is a cake I wouldn't put on a top ten list.
For a few years, it was an ice cream cake. I'm not a fan of combining the two. If you want ice cream with your cake, put a couple of scoops beside it on the plate. But, it was an easy cake to purchase.
One year, he asked for a chocolate chocolate chip cake. Not a chocolate chip cake, but a chocolate chocolate chip cake. In this house, Darcy and I are vanilla. Madison is chocolate. Tom is whatever he feels like at the time. A lot of times its carrot.
Cakes are not meant for vegetables.
I searched high and low for a recipe that fit his description, which included glaze. I found one, and I made the damn cake. And it was delicious. Another time he asked for an upside-down fruit cake. Neither of us can remember the fruit, but this year he decided on an apricot upside-down cake.
I couldn't tell you the last time I saw an apricot. I just know I don't like it, probably having been forced to try one as a child. I suggested alternatives like peach or apple.
Tom: "It sounds so good."
I looked up recipes. He vetoed them.
Tom: "Here's one--a caramelized upside-down apricot cake. Delicious."
I whined. He gave in and decided he'd like a pie from the Village Inn down the street.
A pie?
Not that this birthday was about me, but pie is not cake. Cake is a traditional birthday treat. It is the LAW! Unless the pie is Village Inn's peanut butter pie. Then, it's okay.
He asked me to pick up a berry fruit pie, and I agreed. Only, the morning of his birthday, I was so intent on getting outside to join my neighbor for our walk, that I completely forgot to wish him a happy, happy.
I decided I'd make it up to him by baking the damn apricot cake.
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