This weeks prompt at Sunday Scribblings is Shame
Making a cake for her mother’s birthday should have been a doddle. A bag of flour, a box of eggs, some sugar and a little spoon of baking powder. Then a big tub of cream and some raspberry jam to stick in the middle.
It would have been a good idea to leave the butter out of the fridge for an hour or so, because the first task was to blend it together with the sugar. It was like a brick and try as she may she couldn’t make a dent in it. And when she made a sudden strenuous stab at it, it leapt out the bowl and onto the floor! Undaunted she pushed her curious cat to one side, gave it a quick rinse then popped it into the microwave for a few seconds. When it came out it was a bit runny but she no longer had any difficulty in getting it together with the sweet stuff! Time for the eggs. She broke three into a little bowl and whipped them with a fork. A few bits of shell shouldn't hurt. Into the mix they went.
Next the flour. She didn’t have any scales so she decided the best thing would be to keep adding it until the mixture was a bit ploppy. She tipped the bag and nothing came out. She gave it a shake and suddenly a great dollop of flour shot into the bowl and then exploded sending a cloud up into the air completely covering her startled face! After removing the excess from the bowl she got on with blending the ingredients together. The result was a little on the lumpy side but she felt sure it would sort its self out once it was in the oven.
Time to divide it between two sponge tins. Well that was the idea but for some reason or other she had far too much for two tins so she decided to use four. She should have been a bit more careful when she tipped it in because several times it splashed and quite a lot of it ended up on her nose and forehead!
Into the oven. The recipe said the oven should have been preheated, but she felt sure it wouldn't matter. She pulled up a stool so she could watch her sponges rise. She waited quite a long time but although they started to brown nicely they stayed flat as pancakes. Then out of the corner of her eye she spotted the baking powder still sitting in the spoon on the counter. Thank goodness she had four sponges to pile on top of each other!
Out of the oven they came and she set about prising them from the tins. After a little reconstruction she had four circles of cake ready to assemble into a classic Victoria sponge. She spread jam on three of them (and a little on her face) then topped it with lovely thick cream. She should have let the sponges cool down more because the cream began to go a little thin but she managed to keep most of it place. Next job was to pile them on top of each other and dust with icing sugar. She’s seen this done before. Sugar in a sieve, shake and tap, shake and tap. It went everywhere, including in her hair! But despite everything the finished product looked pretty impressive.
Then the doorbell rang. She’d lost track of time and she had no chance to clean up and change her clothes. She opened the door and there were her parents. She stood there looking for all the world like a circus clown. Her mother’s mouth dropped open and her father burst out laughing! He plucked a blob of jam from her face and pecked her on her cheek.
Half an hour later she was all cleaned up and pouring cups of tea. The time had come to produce the cake she’d spent the last few hours toiling over. She stuck a candle in the top, lit it, and then carried it out of the kitchen. They all started to sing happy birthday. Then suddenly she tripped on a rug and watched as the Victoria sponge flew in slow motion across the room and straight into her mother’s lap. There was an explosion of cake, jam and cream. Mother looked shocked, father failed to suppress a fit of the giggles and their daughter stood there not knowing whether to laugh or cry!
It really was such a shame!