It was not a mistake that "make a layered cake from scratch" was
goal #1 on my list. In fact, I knew the exact cake I was going to make when I wrote goal #1 down. I have had this recipe since 2003! The
Austin American-Statesman published a recipe for a chocolate creme de menthe cake and I quickly commandeered the entire Food section and have kept it in my recipe binder ever since, waiting for the day when I had reason to make this three-layered cake of chocolate minty (hopefully) goodness.
That time came recently to the benefit of my small group as an apology to Weischedad for not bringing dessert the previous week. As he informed me, everyone has a spiritual gift. Mine is dessert; his is consumption. I was not living out my spiritual gift and therefore hindering his ability to live out his as well. With that word of wisdom and truth spoken into my life, I decided this would be the week I make a layered cake.
The cake itself is easy to make and actually similar to a recipe I have for sour cream chocolate cake. The frosting is a ganache, which was even easier to make - some heavy cream and a lot of semi-sweet chocolate. No, this is not a diet cake in any way, shape or form. The challenge for me came in the assembling of it. I am not known for my dexterity or balance, and both were needed when stacking and icing this cake. The three layers went on easily enough, and then came putting the ganache over the surface of the cake.
I was getting impatient. The ganache was cool, but not thickened enough to ice, or is it frost? But my desire to see the final product outweighed my patience. So I poured. And, as expected, ganache slid beautifully down the cake, coating it with a lovely layer of chocolate...and then onto the plate and then the counter. What was my reaction? Stick my hand under the ganache waterfall and catch it. But once I had a handful of chocolate, I was unsure how to relocate it to the cake. Yes, it was messy. I got into the swing of icing and filling in the cracks between layers. One final hurdle - the chocolate sprinkles. Thank goodness for sprinkles, for they cover a cake-full of irregularities. No one notices the chasm between layers when sprinkles are there to distract!
The cake, refrigerated and looking more like the Statesman's picture, safely made its way to small group where it was happily devoured by Weischedad and company. I did have a moment of panic when cutting and the knife did not quickly slide through. "Uh-oh," I thought, "Did I forget to take the parchment off the cake layers?!" No, it was only the Andes mints giving a little resistance. Everyone ate and said they liked it, and I was able to help a brother fulfill his Christian calling as a consumer of food.
Will I make a layered cake again? Absolutely. Will it be anytime soon? Nope.