Hi, it’s Deb…
If you haven’t heard, I love to bake. It’s my way of blowing off steam, or relaxing my head when I’ve had a stressful day. My husband, Greg, knows if he walks in the door after a day at work and sees flour and sugar all over the kitchen to proceed with caution.
I bake at all hours. Sometimes late at night, sometimes at 5:00 on an early Saturday morning.
A couple of years back I was asked to make a Luke Bryan cake for a friend’s daughter who was having a Luke-themed birthday party. Up to the challenge, I jumped right in, sifting through several photos of Luke to create a similar scruffy shadow of facial hair and began designing his head out of fondant. Okay, so it’s not an exact replica, but it was enough to pass for his likeness. I worked on the cake until about 2 am, then called it a night, excited to deliver the birthday treat the following afternoon just before the girl’s guests were scheduled to arrive. Plans quickly changed when I discovered the following morning that…well…
My dog, Cletus, ate the cake.
That’s right, Cletus ate Luke. I nearly died, panicked for a hot minute, then ordered everyone out of the kitchen while I started over, from scratch, working like Inspector Gadget and cooling the cake in the freezer so the frosting wouldn’t look like lava erupting from a volcano.
I finished the decorating with 20 minutes to spare, and the 2nd cake turned out even better than the first. Cletus was certainly not on my list of favorites for a while, but I can laugh about it now.
Who wants a slice?
