Home is where the heart is.
Cliché? You bet. But I say it regardless because I believe it‘s true.
I’m both a California girl and a New Yorker. But my home is not defined by the house that I grew up in or the little apartment I rent in New York City, it’s defined by the people who make me happy. My dad is one of these people. So for his birthday last weekend, I was ecstatic to journey back to the golden coast to celebrate with my family.
Although everyone loves my dad’s cooking, he was banned from the kitchen for the festivities. My mom took over as executive chef and put me on cake duty.
Birthday cake can be tricky. As a baker, you must sacrifice your own taste cravings to those of the honoree. In my limited experience, I’ve come to learn that red velvet is not everyone’s favorite (unfortunately), and boxed mixes are actually preferred by some people (I try not to take it personally). There are also rare cases in which the perfect celebratory dessert isn’t cake at all.