Andy doesn’t usually make mistakes in the kitchen. True, there was that one cilantro-instead-of-parsley incident that ruined a pan of stuffing (served without taste-test at a huge holiday dinner at my parents’ home no less), but for the most part the kitchen is where he works magic. Every once in a while, though, things fall apart. Like this cake.
My heart went out to the guy, and I tried to be supportive, suggesting there might be way to salvage it – either remove a top layer, or just hide everything with two pounds of frosting. He was not having it, refusing to send in something that was falling apart like it was. “Let’s just buy a cake,” I ventured at 9:30 PM. “Where can you get a cake at this time?” was his dejected reply. Umm, how on earth would I know? See, this is why I don’t like to get involved – there are always more questions. I made one final suggestion that he do a simple, quick pan cake and call it a night, then left before there was more swearing.