Let her eat Cake... It's Tradition

In our family, it is traditional for a child to have their very own cake when they turn one year old. Of course, there is a nice big cake and ice cream for all the guests, but the birthday girl or boy gets a smaller cake which they are allowed to eat any way they please – usually with their hands getting it all over themselves.

Last week, my niece, Morgan, had her first birthday and everyone gathered at Mom and Dad’s for a party by the pool on Memorial Day. After enjoying some delicious barbecue sandwichs Mom had made and a sausage-stuffed beef brisket my brother had on the grill plus, of course, deviled eggs and potato chips, we gathered close to watch Morgan open her presents. In true one-year-old style, she cared very little about the actual gifts, but had a glorious time playing with the all the pretty bags. It took a lot of help from her big sister Brooke, but eventually every present was open and it was time to blow-out the candles and cut the cake.

Once everyone else had their piece of cake (a store-bought party cake with green and pink icing and butterflies on it), Morgan took her seat of honor in her high chair and was presented with her pint-sized cake. She was very hesitant at first, reminding me of Nicholas (my youngest) who refused to eat his cake without a fork on his first birthday. We couldn’t help but reminisce about how big brother Ryan (six years old at the time), had taken Nicholas’ hand and placed it in the cake in an attempt to show him how it was done, but Nicholas promptly removed his hand and held it up until someone came along and cleaned it. He then, very properly, ate his cake with a fork and very little mess. Likewise, once my brother Mickey gave his youngest daughter a spoon, she started eating and eventually did make a bit of a mess (which is the best part of the tradition).

She didn’t, however, make nearly the mess Ryan made on his first birthday. In usual Ryan-form, he did the tradition justice and ate his cake with gusto – and his hands!

Over the long weekend, I made a cake any one-year-old would love to put his hands in. My father-in-law raved that it was the "best cake he ever tasted" which surprised me because I thought it would appeal more to the children than the adults. In actuality, we all enjoyed it. The best part... it was super-easy with just a cake mix and a traditional powder-sugar icing – with a twist.

Cotton Candy Cake

Pulled Pork for a Crowd (my Mom made this for the party and it was a hit!)

Facing Fears

I can back our green Ford F150 from here to the city if I had to. And for us, "here to the city" is a very long way. I haven't always had the confidence or the skill to back a vehicle, however.

As a teenager, all my friends couldn’t wait to get their driver’s license. They begged exasperated parents to take them on their birthday so they wouldn’t have to wait one extra day. Not me. I had an older brother and a boyfriend. They both had their own vehicles and would take me anywhere I needed to go.

The summer I turned 16, my Mom made me get my license. My brother had graduated high school and she was not about to drive me to school every day. I passed the written test with no problem. I was so nervous for the driving test, that drove right past a stop sign without stopping. Despite that one small (?!) mistake, I managed to get my license on my first try (what was that guy thinking?).

Several months later, I drove myself to a birthday party. The party was at my uncle’s new house which sits far off the road at the end of a narrow gravel driveway. It was dark by the time I left, and, as I opened the door to my lime-green maverick (that’s another story!), I realized I would have to back all the way out of that driveway. I briefly considered asking one of my uncles to come back the car out for me. In the end, my pride won over fear. I started the engine, put the car in reverse, and began my backward assent up and out of the driveway.

I immediately turned too far to the left. I over-corrected and the car lunged too far to the right. I pulled back in straight and tried again... and again... and again. I finally decided it would be daylight before I got out of there if I didn’t do something. So, I did something. I backed off the driveway into the yard so I could turn around and drive out the way I knew how. Unfortunately, it had been raining. So, of course, I got stuck. I mean really, really stuck.

Pride or no pride, I had to go back in the house and ask my uncles for help. They waded into almost knee-deep mud to push my little maverick out of the predicament. The entire situation was incredibly embarrassing and I swore I would never get caught like that again.

So, I practiced driving in reverse every chance I got. I drove backwards even when it was totally unnecessary. Now, reverse is a breeze but I still practice frequently. While I was backing down my own very long driveway just the other day, my youngest said, "A girl shouldn’t be able to back like that." I wonder where he heard that?!

Another fear of mine is making cheesecake. I’ve never had faith that the mixture of cream cheese, eggs, and other ingredients would rise and set into such a delightful cake. Not for me, anyway. I always leave the cheesecake making to my friend Cyndi. But, just like driving in reverse, when it comes to making cheesecake, the only way to do it is to do it.

So, today I made a Kahlua Cheesecake. Not only did it turn out perfect, it was delicious. I guess I’ll have to make cheesecake every chance I get. What’s next on conquering my fears? Maybe one of these scary-sounding french recipes from Julia Child (egads)... Or driving my husband’s 1965 pickup (it has a on-the-column standard-shift transmission) in town!

Share your food/cooking fears and/or success stories...

Click here for Kahlua Cheesecake recipe.