This time we really did have a joint kitchen experience!
Callie was hosting a potluck and I had to bring some comfort food to work.
So with very little prepping homework, we just made cake. Callie exploited her baker-roommate's mini-muffin tin, producing the cutest bite sized muffins. Yes, Callie, bite sized. I'm still sure those soft babies of a cake should be shoved whole in your mouth. I opted for the same recipe, only using it for a two layered cake. The recipe for the carrot cake was supplied by the praised food blog Smitten Kitchen. I've made a few carrot cakes before, and they've got their fair share of appreciation. This cake though got me true twinkle eyed admiration. I mean, I don't know how to produce pretty food. The frosting was spread unevenly and the cake wasn't even leveled. And yet, time and again I was asked if I really made it myself and it's not store bought.
Is that just a reflection of my colleagues image of me? One of them actually told me he sees me differently now. Maybe cake will be my redemption here at work. Which brings me to why I'm bringing comfort food to work. My friend, who brought me to the job, was fired yesterday. No warning, no nothing. And everyone likes her here, too. She nothing of the anti-social headphone abuser I am. It was time for gustatory bribery. Bring on the butter and sugar!
I've never made anything with frosting. I usually consider things like that poison. Poison to be enjoyed as a sinful pleasure on rare occasions. Like pop music or resort vacations. Licking my (give it up for the...) mechanical whisk from the frosting's leftovers was so gratifying, I immediately went on to lick the spoon and bowl as well. What can I say, fat-sweetness is a crowd-pleaser.
It's a kind of shocking visceral pleasure. Nothing like the emotional warmth I feel when eating something that is accompanied by memories and events. Sabich is street treat I associate with student life Tel-Aviv. Sabres are summer in Haifa of the late 1980's, standing on my parents' balcony to see the Sabres guy walking down the street with a shopping cart full of the fruit and calling out to costumers. Ptitim are my culinary attempt at creating a home of my own. Frosting? It's a smack in the pallet I received in homes, restaurants, here and abroad - it feels anonymous to me. A bitter sweet reminder of the fact that I cooked it with Callie via web cam.
Hmmm... I guess frosting is going to carry more than a punch from now on.
Here's the recipe.