We’re not having a huge birthday party for the mackerdoodle. I know, I know. Based on the comments section the last time I mentioned this, most of you are speed dialing Family and Children’s Services as you read this. but slow down with the snap judgements. After reading this story, you may believe that this is the best gift I could give my daughter.
This evening I set out to bake a non dairy birthday cake for my mackerdoodle. Angel food was my choice, and I was determined to be meticulous. Steps I would normally shrug off as unnecessary (”In a food processor spin sugar about 2 minutes until it is superfine”), I performed with precision and timing. I even dug through my utensil drawer until I found (and then washed, of course) my egg separator, which had to this point never been used.
It was when the egg whites didn’t reach soft peak that I began to worry. How long should that take? I had been beating them for at least seven minutes, when I asked Jonathan.
His response, after checking on line was “You can’t do it in a plastic, glass or aluminum bowl.”
I looked at my plastic bowl, and the glass bowl beside it, and said “That’s the only kind we have.” Apparently if this milk allergy continues, and angel food becomes our cake of choice, I need to invest in a stainless steel or copper bowl.
Eventually I decided just to add the flour and pour it into the cake pan and see how it turned out. I mean, it would be a little heavy, but as long as it soaks up the strawberries, who cares, right?
The only tube pan I own is a silicone bundt. So in went the unpeaked batter.
I set the timer. I watched Eureka on SciFi. The timer beeped. Again, I followed the instructions to the letter!
“When inserted halfway between the inner and outer wall, the skewer should come out dry”
The skewer did, in fact, come out dry. I removed the cake, and let it cool in the pan (again, the letter of the recipe!) before discovering, while removing the cake from the pan, that the part of the cake touching the inner tube wall was, in fact, raw.
I don’t mean a little doughy. I mean, the consistency of warm pudding.
It oozed out of the pan and onto the plate.
I did what every woman married to a better cook than she would do. I hollered for my husband.
I could blame the heat and humidity. I could blame the oven. I could blame the silicone bundt pan.
But the truth of the matter is this: tomorrow morning, while I’m taking our mackerdoodle to her follow up appointment regarding her strep, Jonathan is going to take the other half of the eggs I bought today, and is going to try again. His angel food cake will turn out beautifully light, fully cooked and completely roll-your-eyes-back-in-your-head delicious. Terri (who is loaning us the use of her pool, so the least we can do is share a piece of cake) will take one bite and say “Oh this is delicious!” Jonathan will shrug, in his self deprecating way, and say “It’s only got 6 ingredients. It’s not that hard.”
And that is the reason that I couldn’t handle having a party with guests for my Mackerdoodle’s party.
I couldn’t handle angel food cake.
And it only has 6 ingredients.
It is a snapshot view into the role of technology in contemporary culture. I think I’ll go send Terri a facebook flair from within the same room. Just to make the anti- “Norman Rockwell” moment complete. 
ur church fellowship has a meal after each service. I find it a challenge to come up with something to bring each week. Sometimes I hit a success, but mostly it’s just a nothing-to-write-home-about crock pot offering. But today I outdid myself.
