This entry is long overdue. I made the last cake amidst a flurry of visitors, packing,
and last minute experiments before heading off to Europe for a conference and
some intense sight seeing. There
was no time for blogging.
Admittedly, I was probably putting off writing this entry a bit, because
the completion of this entry is truly the end of this project. And that makes me sadder than I thought
it would.
Coincidentally, this cake also made me sadder than I thought
it would. Entitled “Towering Hope
Chocolate Walnut Torte,” it was comprised of eggs, eggs, a touch of chocolate,
a sprinkling of walnuts, and eggs.
I was slightly irked that I was forced to finally invest in a legitimate
angel food cake pan, but with a short ingredient list and a name containing the
word “hope,” it seemed a sure thing that the cake would be a simple ending to
the cake adventure.
But endings are never simple. The essential instructions were to beat egg yolks, beat egg
whites, mix together with some other stuff, bake. Of course, in the process of separating the one dozen eggs,
yolk number 11 fell into the whites.
Thankfully, it came out easily and intact with a slotted spoon. Or so I thought. I knew something was wrong when the
KitchenAid had been working on the whites for 15 minutes and failed to yield a
“soft shape.” I had to turn off
the KitchenAid and switch to a hand mixer, and then go back to the KitchenAid,
so that nothing overheated. But at
long last, I did get what I thought were fluffy, firm egg whites, so I mixed
everything together and put it in the pan.
So I bought another dozen eggs and tried again. This time, I worked as quickly a possible to ensure there was no time for either mix to lose the air whipped in. My egg whites beat perfectly. The cake rose and stayed in the pan when I flipped it over. And the end result was a light, airy, chocolaty, nutty cake. It was aesthetically pleasing, quite delicious, and there was plenty to share. And that is how this cake adventure ends.
At the end of her project, Dr. R reflects on a few questions about the changes over the past year, and I thought I might consider them as well. First, is the world less safe than when I started? In her Year of Cake, Dr. R witnessed Hurricane Katrina, an oil spill, and bombing in Israel. As for me, I’ve seen an endless of number of economic crises and violent shootings, and watched the debates over gay marriage and women’s health issues tip toward the boiling point. In this election year, campaign battles are being undertaken through social media, which in turn has been taken over by anger and ignorance, and I am terrified of what this election could bring. But I’ve also witness the discovery of the Higgs boson particle, and the world experienced a brief period of unification in the 2012 Olympics, signs that this crazy world still has room for progress and hope.
Am I happier or better for eating cake every week? Dr. R says yes, and I have to
agree. Maybe a few pounds heavier,
but I think it’s worth it. On this
journey, I discovered the power of cake: to bring people together, to light up
someone’s face, to bring a bit of sweetness to a bitter day. I think cake is called for far more
frequently than we indulge in it, and while it’s nice to know I am not required
to bake every weekend, I foresee the continuation of cake days (or pie or
cookies or brownies) whenever there is time or a need for a sweet treat. Sunday morning, in fact, I was up early
making the strawberry pie I promised Maureen, and we had Pie & Bones night
that evening. There’s just
something comforting about ending a weekend with baked goods and good friends.
Dr. R also reflects on the changes in her family, good and
bad. Tragically, her oldest
daughter was diagnosed with MS at the end of her year, which is why the
proceeds of this book go to MS research.
I remember this happening, how sad she was, and how strong. Scientists approach scary issues by
learning everything there is to know, because if you understand it, it’s not so
scary. Dr. R read everything she
possibly could about MS and ongoing research, and even e-mailed scientists
working on the disease, all of who responded. There was, of course, happy news for her family too. Maybe that’s why she chose this cake:
to represent the hope they needed to get through the bad, and the hope their
blessings gave them.