Unfortunate

What if you made a cake and nobody ate it?

Above you see my entry for most-unfortunate cake.

It may be the ugliest cake I've ever made.

I plan to blame it on my foot.

Two weeks ago I had my third visit with the podiatrist about my broken foot.

The one I fractured in February.

Walking.

The one I re-fractured in March.

Walking.

This time, he gave me a walking cast. One of those massive jobbers that totally encases the foot in hard molded plastic. All that heavy molded plastic is held onto my foot and leg via more hard molded plastic and multiple velcro strips. I had to put a "lift" in my other shoe just to even out my clomping.

I have to say, the device really works.

It's now next to impossible to move around and hurrying is out of the question. Climbing the stairs is likely to frighten small children into believing the bogey man is indeed coming to get them.

The day after aquiring this new orthopedic accessory, my son was due home from college, my daughter had an evening doctor's appointment, and I needed to make supper, all within about 2 hours.

Despite starting the process after 5 p.m., I felt compelled to make a cake to celebrate the end of a successful first year in college. I had to properly welcome my baby boy home.

9.9 times out of 10, the only kind of cake to grace our oven is chocolate with chocolate frosting. Never one to go with the flow, I decided to make one of Zachary's childhood favorites, Orange Cake.

Oh, but not just any orange cake.

No, this orange cake required the making of orange filling in addition to frosting.

I made this decision about 29 minutes before needing to leave for the doctor's appointment.

No problem, though, Melissa would be here to take the cake out of the oven. I quickly mixed it up, popped it in, and cooked the clear orange filling, leaving it on the stovetop to cool.

By this time, I'd been on my foot, gimping around the kitchen, tripping over two dogs, and cooking up a storm, for about an hour.

My foot, the broken one, didn't hurt exactly.

Instead, it sort of felt heavy.

And achy.

One might even say dead.

We flew out the door to the appointment, whereby "flying" equals me clomping at about 5 steps per minute, changing out of my cast into my orthopedic shoe in order to be able to drive, wiping the sweat from my brow, and cursing high arches. At least I was able to prop my lifeless limb on a waiting room table.

Fast forward about 1 1/2 hours and you'll find me painfully clumping up the steps into the house.

By this time, the cake had been left in the pans to cool too long.

You know what happens when a cake cools in the pan too long, don't you?

Yep.

It was stuck.

I did my best to pry it out of the pans, put the water on to boil for the pasta, make the sauce, prepare the salad, and slather the orange filling between the layers.

By now, said foot was not only heavy.

It was throbbing.

Each step was painful, my back hurt from my strange galumphing gate, and I still had to frost the dumb cake.

Now, usually a somewhat lop-sided, crumbly cake can be hidden under a glorious layer of butter cream frosting.

But I was past butter cream frosting and nowhere near glorious.

Instead, I mixed up a quick, somewhat runny frosting and uncermoniously dumped it over the mess.

And what a mess it was.

Everyone finally made it home for dinner around 9 p.m.

The meal was good, we laughed, we talked, we reminisced.

Who wants cake?

No one.

Not a single soul in this house, excluding both dogs of course, wanted a piece of cake.

In my 21 years as a mother, this has never happened before, and I hope it will never happen again.

I shudder at the memory.

Poor cake.
Poor unfortunate baked good.

Poor, sad, me.

Luckily for my ego, however, most of the cake was devoured by the next evening, and despite it's ugliness, was delicious.

Just don't try to bake it with a broken foot.

Fresh Orange Cake
Sift together:
2 1/4 cups flour
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt

Add:
1/2 cup shortening
1/4 cup orange juice
1 1/2 tsp. vanilla
Beat 2 minutes, then add:
3/4 cup milk
2 eggs
Beat two minutes more
Pour batter into two greased and floured 9" layer pans


Clear Orange Filling:
Mix in pan:
1 cup sugar
1/4 cup cornstartch
1/2 tsp. salt
Stir in gradually:
1 cup orange juice
Bring to boil. Boil 1 minute, remove from heat and add:
2 T butter
2 T grated orange rind
2 T lemon juice
Cool thoroughly.

Spread orange filling between layers of cake, frost with favorite white frosting.
Enjoy!