Andrea Cooley Creative Services

Adam’s birthday is tomorrow (28!) so I made him a cake tonight. Not just any cake. A black forest cake (his request) to be exact. I remember making this cake with my roommates in college. First for Lynette and then for Adam. It must have been a hit, because he remembers it years later–somehow I haven’t made it since–and when I suggested making a different chocolate cake he made it known that this was what he really wanted. So being the wonderful wife I am (and really who can resist chocolate cake with a layer of freshly whipped cream and cherries?)

I made the layer cake tonight and will attempt to whip the heavy cream tomorrow and arrange the berries in a pleasing fashion. If it’s a success photos will follow. Otherwise I’ll claim that we gorged ourselves on it before I could find the camera.

As I pulled the cake pans out of the oven admiring the cracked tops and inhaling the sweet goodness of chocolate and sugar I realized that while I have watched my mom make many a chocolate layer cake, I have rarely done it myself. My excuse is that with only two of us at home there isn’t a need to make a layer cake and cupcakes seem so much easier to share. But there’s something about a layer cake that’s special. Now, I have to admit that the cake is not made from scratch. As my mom taught me, Duncan Hines makes a delicious mix, so why mess up a good thing? So while Becca has spoiled me with some amazing and decadent concoctions, I’m more than happy to stick to the box mixes. Besides, me and cocoa powder are bound to lead to trouble after 9 on a Monday night.

The more I think about it, I honestly can’t remember the last time I made a layer cake–which has me a little nervous to put this one together tomorrow night. In the past I’ve gotten cheese cake for Adam, the aforementioned cupcakes, or his birthday has fallen on Thanksgiving and we’ve been home and you guessed it, my mom made a cake. But tonight when I pulled the tins out of the oven and waited 10 minutes for the cakes to cool before tipping them out onto a board I had one of those moments of nostalgia. The kitchen was filled with the smell of chocolate, tomorrow is a birthday, and I was making a cake for someone I love. Is this what my mom felt all those years (aside from wanting a thick slice of chocolate cake?) Even if it was made from a box it was a labor of love, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. As I carefully patted the cake tops before flipping them I could see my mom’s long fingers performing the same task. Is this an act I will teach my daughters? If not the cake technique, I hope I at least pass down the love of chocolate!

Tomorrow I hope to channel some more Mama Schmidt love (yes, this is how we lovingly refer to her in the Cooley house) as I figure out which layer to put on the bottom and decide if I need to shave off part of another to make them level. I’ll let you know how it goes. No matter how it turns out though, there will be candles, a chorus of happy birthday, and another loving birthday memory.