Earlier this morning, while I was feeding Lily in the kitchen, Dmitri yelled this from our bedroom:
Babe! You know how I missed a few workouts this week? My pants feel really loose in the thigh area, and I’ve lost ten pounds! Crap!
The boy definitely has a way with words (although this utterance, while still irritating, doesn’t even touch last year’s gem. After a very large birthday lunch, he turned to me—8 months pregnant at the time– and remarked that his belly was so distended that his back hurt. No joke.). And although I wanted to respond with a few choice phrases of my own, I held my tongue. This is, after all, no ordinary Tuesday; twenty-seven years ago today, my cute, quirky, and dessert-indifferent husband arrived on the earth.
Definitely a reason to celebrate—and, of course, to eat delicious baked goods :).
But here’s the catch. Every year, in honor of this very special
month week day, I offer to make him something yummy—and every year, his reply is the same: “No thanks. Dessert’s just not my thing. Let’s have shrimp.”
A few days ago, however, Dmitri had a change of heart. He wanted a cake.
Almond cake with raspberry jam and raspberry buttercream frosting, just like we had at our wedding, to be precise.
And even though I’d never successfully baked a cake from scratch, and even though I knew that there was no freaking way that my cake would be even half as tasty (or beautiful!) as our lovely Cake Crumbs (http://www.cake-crumbs.com/) creation, I agreed. But after searching through several cookbooks and innumerable online recipes, however, I was at a loss. A light, fluffy, angel food cake? A heavier pound cake? Cupcakes?
Because Dmitri’s birthday happens to fall on Fat Tuesday this year, and because of the poor guy’s trouble in the maintaining-his-weight department (grumble, grumble, grumble), I decided on this: http://www.davidlebovitz.com/2010/06/almond-cake-recipe/, which requires no sifting or fancy equipment and calls for a full cup of butter, six eggs, and eight ounces of almond paste (equaling about ten thousand grams of fat and heaven knows how many calories).
I’ll let you know how it tastes; the instructions recommend that you let it sit for a day before serving. But I can tell you that there’s a growing hole in the top of the cake that’s just about the size of a man-finger…and that just smelling all of yesterday’s almondy goodness was enough to make my jeans—and the thighs of jeans, specifically– feel a little snugger than I’m really comfortable with.