This recipe gives a preparation time
Of forty minutes but, I think
They have neglected to include
The dash to the shops because
I have forgotten at least two
Of the main ingredients.
According to the directions
It makes one 8-inch two-layer cake
But does that allow for me
Sampling the mix as I go
And the children who want
To lick beaters and the bowl?
First, I need to preheat oven to 350 degrees.
No, first, I need to look up how to convert
Fahrenheit to Centigrade
Or run the risk of burning the house down
And having no chocolate cake to show for it,
Which may be the bigger tragedy here.
Next, I must butter cake pans.
Clearly, the first instruction
Should have been to remove said butter
From the fridge so that it can be
Applied easily to the cake pans
By small children who refuse to wait patiently.
No, child, when it says to “line bottoms
with parchment paper, and butter paper”
It does not mean to line your own bottom
Using the butter to hold it in place,
Now I must get more butter out
And find more parchment paper.
Then comes the dusting of the pans with cocoa;
And the dusting on the counter tops,
The recipe book, and the younger brother.
Followed by the tapping out the excess cocoa
Directly, in theory, into the mouth of older sister
Who gets some in her eye almost immediately.
After carefully washing out said daughters eye
We sift the cocoa, flour, baking soda,
baking powder, salt, and sugar into a bowl.
Well, most of it is in the bowl.
Some is on the benchtops with the cocoa
And I’m sure some is in my slipper, as well.
The next instruction is to beat in oil,
Buttermilk, vanilla, eggs, and hot water
ONE AT A TIME, CHILD!
Be sure to use the mixer set at low
(Don’t ask me how I know this)
And beat ‘til smooth, or you run out of patience.
Pour the batter into the pans yourself.
Do not be persuaded by puppy dog eyes
From small humans
Covered in various ingredients
That were supposed to be in the bowl
And not in every orifice of their body.
Bake for 45 to 55 minutes,
Or until a toothpick inserted into the centre
Comes out clean enough that
The child still hovering doesn’t want to
Lick it and stab themselves in the tongue,
The others distracted by bowls and beaters.
Rotate the pans halfway through
Because you haven’t got enough things
To keep you occupied,
What with cleaning up the children
And the benched, and the floor,
To a somewhat respectable standard.
Remember to remove cakes from the oven.
This is very important.
Otherwise you end up with two tins
Of solid rock that not even the dog wants,
And the kitchen smells of burnt dreams
For at least the next two days.
Let cakes cool in pans on wire racks.
They say 20 minutes, but it’s usually more.
Sometimes it’s an hour because
Child one has discovered the frosting
And is eating with a spoon under their bed
While the other two cry because they’re not.
Invert the pans to remove the cakes
(hopefully intact and not charred)
Before discarding the parchment paper
Securely enough that the bastard cat
Can’t claw it out of the rubbish
And scatter crumbs throughout the house.
Cool completely on racks, top side up,
Though, by this point, I’m not entirely sure
Which is the top or the bottom of either cake,
And cut off the top of one layer,
Remembering to feed the off cuts
To the remaining seagulls, I mean children.
With a butter knife, frost top of trimmed layer.
Failing to find a butter knife, use any flat item
You may have laying about in the kitchen
Or, as last resort, your garden shed
Because it’s probably easier than finding
A godforsaken butter knife where it should be.
Place the other layer of cake on top
(Assuming you managed to salvage both cakes)
And frost top and sides of the cake
With your butter knife, or trowel,
Until not completely disappointed
With the final result.
The next steps are the most important
So pay careful attention:
Cut two small slices for the children,
Reminding the third that she just consumed
Her body weight in frosting and will be
Violently ill if she even looks at the cake.
Cut a slightly larger slice for your partner
Who conveniently disappeared to the shed
Whilst this whole ordeal was happening
And will be in charge of cleaning up the mess,
But did help you find the trowel
So deserves some reward for that effort.
Take the rest of the cake,
Which should amount to approximately
Three quarters of the original cake,
Along with a healthy dosing of whipped cream
And any ice cream the vultures, I mean children,
Haven’t devoured without your knowledge.
Finally, find a quiet place to reflect
On the fact that you not only survived
But created an edible, and non-lethal,
Meal substitute for yourself
As you consume the entire thing
Without a shred of guilt or remorse.
Because you haven’t got enough things
To keep you occupied,
What with cleaning up the children
And the benched, and the floor,
To a somewhat respectable standard.
Remember to remove cakes from the oven.
This is very important.
Otherwise you end up with two tins
Of solid rock that not even the dog wants,
And the kitchen smells of burnt dreams
For at least the next two days.
Let cakes cool in pans on wire racks.
They say 20 minutes, but it’s usually more.
Sometimes it’s an hour because
Child one has discovered the frosting
And is eating with a spoon under their bed
While the other two cry because they’re not.
Invert the pans to remove the cakes
(hopefully intact and not charred)
Before discarding the parchment paper
Securely enough that the bastard cat
Can’t claw it out of the rubbish
And scatter crumbs throughout the house.
Cool completely on racks, top side up,
Though, by this point, I’m not entirely sure
Which is the top or the bottom of either cake,
And cut off the top of one layer,
Remembering to feed the off cuts
To the remaining seagulls, I mean children.
With a butter knife, frost top of trimmed layer.
Failing to find a butter knife, use any flat item
You may have laying about in the kitchen
Or, as last resort, your garden shed
Because it’s probably easier than finding
A godforsaken butter knife where it should be.
Place the other layer of cake on top
(Assuming you managed to salvage both cakes)
And frost top and sides of the cake
With your butter knife, or trowel,
Until not completely disappointed
With the final result.
The next steps are the most important
So pay careful attention:
Cut two small slices for the children,
Reminding the third that she just consumed
Her body weight in frosting and will be
Violently ill if she even looks at the cake.
Cut a slightly larger slice for your partner
Who conveniently disappeared to the shed
Whilst this whole ordeal was happening
And will be in charge of cleaning up the mess,
But did help you find the trowel
So deserves some reward for that effort.
Take the rest of the cake,
Which should amount to approximately
Three quarters of the original cake,
Along with a healthy dosing of whipped cream
And any ice cream the vultures, I mean children,
Haven’t devoured without your knowledge.
Finally, find a quiet place to reflect
On the fact that you not only survived
But created an edible, and non-lethal,
Meal substitute for yourself
As you consume the entire thing
Without a shred of guilt or remorse.
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