Poor Clarice, the lambs never stopped screaming. Such is the miracle of springtime, I fear.
Despite our lack of religious conviction, we still have holiday traditions. As such, we celebrate the return of spring by decorating eggs and eating chocolate rabbits. Nothing says “spring” quite like rabbits and eggs, am I right?
Nope, wrong. There IS another way to celebrate spring. My good friend, Lizbeth, introduced me to the mysterious world of The Lamb Cake (dunh, dunh, DUNH!).
It’s been a thing for many years, I’ve learned. Lizbeth learned to make lamb cakes as a child, by helping her grandmother. And because she is a good friend, she decided to send me a mold for a lamb cake.
I should have smelled the set-up.
But since I had orangesicle cake mix and purple frosting in the pantry, I decided to go for it. Because a lamb can be purple if I want it to be! And also, I have purple sheep in Minecraft, so there.
I spent several minutes greasing and flouring the bottom of the cake pan, before pouring in the batter. Did you catch that I said “bottom” in that sentence? That’s important information, since this mold also has a top half. You put the top mold on top of the bottom, and they fit together. As the cake bakes and rises, it rises and shapes itself into the top mold.
THE ONE I DIDN’T GREASE.
Yeah, that one.
And since I’ve been having trouble with my oven every time I bake something, with the edges always being over-done and the middle being under-done, I had the genius idea to cook it in my convection toaster-oven.
What could go wrong?
Lizbeth said she bakes her cake about 20-25 minutes, so I set the timer for 25. When I heard the ding, I took it out and tried to lift the top off. But it would not come off. So I banged on the top a little and wriggled it around, and I finally got it separated. The pan and the cake.
All I can say is I might be responsible for the lambs screaming.
But since there was still uncooked goo in the middle, I smooshed it back together and put it back in for 15 minutes. My child and I have a fierce love of cake, and I was not going to give up hope.
But I should have.
I managed to get it out of the pan, but lost several big chunks and the neck broke. So this lamb was going to have to be the lying down kind of lamb. I figured I could maybe cover up all the imperfections with frosting. Easy-peasy!
Let me preface this by saying that I am not a professional baker, lest all my fancy trickery above has you believing that I am. I can passably frost a square or round cake, but I’ve not previously made an attempt to artfully frost a character cake. How hard could it be?
So I began applying the purple frosting and made a special effort to fill in the missing chunks and the gigantic crack in the neck. And then I found some mini M&Ms for eyes, because we do things big at my house.
And I was finished! Connor had been dancing around, waiting for the cake to be finished. I tilted it up to show him and he was ECSTATIC. “Can I have some now, PLEEEEEEASE?”
“Of course! Let me show dad first.”
I walked over and tilted it up for hubs, who then looked at me with one eyebrow much higher than the other, and then he passed on having some cake.
I think he did not appreciate my artistic endeavor…
And the lambs still scream…
Ok, I admit it…it’s not my BEST cake ever. But if you’re a cake freak like me and Connor, it doesn’t matter. Damn straight we ate that cake!
The next day, Lizbeth sent me a picture of her lamb cake. Don’t worry, we’re still friends. But I will not just lie down and die, oh no. I’m making another one this weekend. I will not be beaten by a cake mold. We’ll just call my first one the “sacrificial lamb” of spring.
I’m positive my next one will look just like this, except I’ll be using a red velvet mix. What could go wrong?