I love birthdays. I had one yesterday. I’m still feeling no pain.
The thing I love most about birthdays is birthday cake. Delicious, moist, flavorful, decadent birthday cake. Mine was chocolate with raspberry ginger buttercream frosting this year. And since I made it myself, I got to lick the beaters and everything. There are times when I am entirely a child, you know.
When I was an actual child, my mother made the cakes. When I was in my early teens, my mother took the Wilton cake decorating course and learned to do amazing things with Crisco buttercream…but I never liked those nearly so much. All the effort started going into the look of the cake and not the flavor or texture. The cakes got much, much prettier, but I would leave half the frosting (or more) on the plate because it tasted like Crisco with a dollop of almond extract in it. I can still admire the effort that goes into making a cake of the sort she did then, but I’m never eager to taste one.
Mr. Twistie told me for years that he detested buttercream frosting. If he was going to eat cake – which he almost never did even before his type II diabetes was diagnosed – he wanted whipped cream frosting because he hated buttercream.
Last night, we celebrated with a slice of cake each (Mr. Twistie carefully controlled his diet up to the big day so as to be able to do so without disaster, and will behave himself in the food department for a while to make up for it). I hadn’t really expected him to indulge, since he had been swearing up and down from the day I met him twenty-eight years ago that buttercream was disgusting. Well, last night was a revelation, apparently. He’d never had buttercream made with butter before.
No, Mr. Twistie is not suddenly going to lose his resolve and eat buttercream frosting every night. He and I would both like to keep him around with all his limbs intact for a while, yet, nor does he want to slip into a diabetic coma.
But a couple times a year now, he might share a slice of cake with me, even if I’ve frosted it in buttercream.
That’s a birthday present I couldn’t have asked for, and that can’t be beat.