Posted by on Apr 23, 2014 | 2 comments

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This cake looks GOOD compared to mama’s…

So mama has these important friends coming for lunch, and she gets all happy about making her favorite dark chocolate mousse cake and there she goes, keeping me far away from the kitchen where the smell of rich chocolate is about to make me nuts, and whiz goes the food processor to grind the nuts and chocolate and a generous stick of soft butter, and then she puts in the three separated egg yolks and a dash of vanilla and then she discovers a bit of intense espresso in the Nespresso bucket and tosses that in and then she blends in the grilled almonds and lets it all whiz to a fine texture and then she puts all this in a large bowl and in the clean bowl of the processor she whips the separated egg whites all shiny and nice and then she folds the beaten eggs whites (stiff but not dry!) into the chocolate/nut/butter/yolk mixture (oh, I forgot, she found a couple of the tiny chocolate praline bunnies that came out of a bigger bunny on Easter and threw those into the food processor, too) and then all of this luscious batter goes into a floured and buttered pan and into the oven at 185 C or 375 F and it bakes for about 18-20 minutes, like a soufflé, and then she takes it out of the oven, thinking all the while about how she wants to learn more about the tango and then—

She dings the pan on the corner of the granite counter and it all goes on the floor!!!

We shall not repeat here mama’s words, but papa came running and gave her a hug and managed to scoop a bit off the top of the cake on the floor and pronounce it REALLY, REALLY good…

This has never happened in my life, mama tells me. NEVER!!!#$^&!!:*&^!!%$#!!

Well, we build character through events like this, and guess what—mama managed to salvage a 2-inch by 2-inch piece of the cake from the pan and mold it into what looks like something she planned! So at least the kids can have a taste, if not the adults.

At least she didn’t scoop up the cake and put it back in the pan to serve—oh, boy.

I walk around that kitchen, too, and we don’t want little paw prints in the dessert, do we?

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Could have been a nice design, no?