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A parent's role is to build neuroses
Last night Rose nagged for cupcakes. I put her off for a while and then went outside with MrPeacock for some personalised fighter training. When we came back in the cupcakes were in the oven and MsNotaGoth was putting Rose to bed.
Later, after we'd eaten some and noted their delectability, MsNotaGoth asserted that the taste difference was in creaming the butter and sugar. She declared that she, "loves creaming the butter and sugar, it's my favourite part." When I asked her which recipe she had used she bragged that it was all from her head and that she had been making cake since she was 6.
But the recipe for cake that I've used since my children were small has melted butter.
I contemplated that exchange this morning and congratulated myself on using that recipe so many times that MsNotaGoth can make cake whenever and whereever she wants (including with solar oven while camping on the beach in Crete - another story).
Then I thought about how much I like that recipe I inherited from MTB's grandmother (Hilda's neverfail chocolate cake) with its melted butter.
And I flashed into a memory of when I was about six (or maybe 8) and making cake with my Dad. I had been involved in the making of lots of cakes by then and the cake instructions included creaming the butter and sugar. But Dad was impatient, I think it was the first cake he was involved with, or he didn't really want to be making cake with me. (The joys of single parenthood). And the butter was hard, so Dad made me melt the butter. And the cake was a bit dry and not as nice as the cake we both knew we should have gotten from that recipe.
When I say "made me", I remember a serious argument. I argued for purity and Dad used that scornful voice he uses. I suspect quoting my mother was a bad move.
I'm going to blame that story, and my father, for the fact that when I found a recipe that worked with melted butter it became almost the only cake I make. Except for that boiled fruit cake that also involves melting the butter.
Hey! I could also blame my mother! She decided (or was too poor to and then got pig headed) that she didn't need a mechanical cake beater. In the days when butter was stored in the fridge and we didn't have microwaves, that meant really hard work with a wooden spoon to cream the butter and sugar. Unlike MsNotagoth, I hate creaming butter and sugar.
Edit: MsNotaGoth likes creaming butter and sugar because she uses her hands to do it, and then gets to lick her hands clean. I'm sure I've taught her to wash her hands before cooking btw.
Later, after we'd eaten some and noted their delectability, MsNotaGoth asserted that the taste difference was in creaming the butter and sugar. She declared that she, "loves creaming the butter and sugar, it's my favourite part." When I asked her which recipe she had used she bragged that it was all from her head and that she had been making cake since she was 6.
But the recipe for cake that I've used since my children were small has melted butter.
I contemplated that exchange this morning and congratulated myself on using that recipe so many times that MsNotaGoth can make cake whenever and whereever she wants (including with solar oven while camping on the beach in Crete - another story).
Then I thought about how much I like that recipe I inherited from MTB's grandmother (Hilda's neverfail chocolate cake) with its melted butter.
And I flashed into a memory of when I was about six (or maybe 8) and making cake with my Dad. I had been involved in the making of lots of cakes by then and the cake instructions included creaming the butter and sugar. But Dad was impatient, I think it was the first cake he was involved with, or he didn't really want to be making cake with me. (The joys of single parenthood). And the butter was hard, so Dad made me melt the butter. And the cake was a bit dry and not as nice as the cake we both knew we should have gotten from that recipe.
When I say "made me", I remember a serious argument. I argued for purity and Dad used that scornful voice he uses. I suspect quoting my mother was a bad move.
I'm going to blame that story, and my father, for the fact that when I found a recipe that worked with melted butter it became almost the only cake I make. Except for that boiled fruit cake that also involves melting the butter.
Hey! I could also blame my mother! She decided (or was too poor to and then got pig headed) that she didn't need a mechanical cake beater. In the days when butter was stored in the fridge and we didn't have microwaves, that meant really hard work with a wooden spoon to cream the butter and sugar. Unlike MsNotagoth, I hate creaming butter and sugar.
Edit: MsNotaGoth likes creaming butter and sugar because she uses her hands to do it, and then gets to lick her hands clean. I'm sure I've taught her to wash her hands before cooking btw.
no subject
PS, the non-microwave way of softening the butter is to put the bowl in a dish of hot water, I have fond memories of prodding it every 30 seconds to see if it was soft yet.
no subject
I have no family cake recipe, alas, as I was not permitted in the kitchen (and definitely not allowed near cake) when I was that age. My favourite cake recipes these days mostly involve sawdust and prunes, or their moral equivalent, which seldom involve creaming anything with anything. I do have one I'm rather fond of that involves melted butter, molasses, stewed apples, and some other stuff all mixed together as the wet ingredients, though.