I don’t know why I do it to myself- I don’t even really enjoy eating cake all that much- but I feel the need to bake for people’s monumental occasions that celebrate their birth (i.e. birthdays.) Sick and sad as it seems- some folks apparently like this tradition and I may have just screwed the pooch on this one as, it seems, the birthdays keep on coming and I’m having to outdo myself time and time again. (but seriously, will it ever be better than the great Pirate Cake collaboration 2007? I think not.) In this particular instance, I made a birthday cake in the shape of a purse for Rachel’s 30th birthday from a recipe I found here.
Totally cute idea. I followed the instructions exactly (well, a minor strawberry cake mix substitution) but almost exactly. I got this late Friday night:
Now, I must interject that as I made it, Jeff was expressing his concerns from a basic construction standpoint. But I wanted to follow the directions. And for him to shut up. (Not necessarily in that order.) I should have listened to Mr. Erector-Set (tee-hee- erector) because at 6:30 AM on Saturday morning, I had this:
