Layers of Love

I've been staring, starry-eyed at this photo for two weeks. Smitten Kitchen, the master baker, did it again. She made this for herself for her own birthday. And of course it is a delectable object of perfection. I've looked at it again and again. I've read the recipe over and over. And I've thought ...
I can do it. 
I can do it. 
But I've been trying to find an occasion that was worthy of it. Of making it, tempting my incontrollable urge to taste its 7 to 11 layers of batter and icing, and serving it. Yesterday, I got it - I had the perfect excuse as the perfect storm of Summer Hours, Peggy's birthday and the importation of the egg beater from my apartment to Peter's house collided. At 2:00, I teed myself up to make it.

To start, I made the cake batter. I blended together lots of egg yolks, lots of powdered sugar, comparatively less flour, a little lemon juice and salt, into a paste more or less, which miraculously turned from puddy to foam with the addition of seven egg whites that I had beat into stiff peaks. (Life was SO much easier with an egg beater.)

On one 12x17 inch baking sheet, lined with parchment paper, I spread out the foamy batter, and set it in the oven to bake at 400 degrees for 7-10 minutes. I had made sure to brush my teeth right before starting to bake, so I my minty fresh mouth passed on licking the bowl. I was so proud of my cunning nature.

But then I made the chocolate icing, divided the cake into the layers, started to assemble, and had my downfall. I guess the super clean feeling had started to wear down, so I tried a crumb. Then a whole piece. Then two, then say fifteen. And my stomach said, "stop, please." So I did. (The cake batter recipe is amazing. If anything - just make that and serve it!)

Then I made my own caramel. This was a very cool process. I felt like I was back in Mrs. Kuhn's science class again, learning about the different phases of solid, liquid and gas. The 1/2 cup of sugar and 1 tablespoon of water went from liquid, to solid, to brown liquid, to brittle candy in the period of say ten minutes. (I'm sure there was a gas phase in there somewhere, but I must have missed it.) The caramel was poured over the last layer of cake and I was supposed to work very quickly to cut out the little stars, but the layer that was working its way through my digestive system slowed me down a bit. The caramel solidified in less than a minute, and my cookie cutter got stuck on star number two. So I only made one and a half successfully.

After iced, assembled and topped off, I put the cake on its little cake plate in the refrigerator to chill for a couple hours.

After going for a short run, putting my family party outfit on, and showing Peter the somewhat lopsided final product, we brought it to the party. And after dinner Peggy made her birthday wish on the shooting star (and a half.)

So why this cake? Well, when I got Peter, I also got his amazing family. I got six more layers of love in my life. Each a little different, some a little lopsided, some thicker than others, but all as sweet as the next. And all fit together perfectly, glued as one by common understandings of love, life, and family. And I'm so honored to be part of this little sandwich now. 

Now to run off the over indulgence.

Lo.