Nurse Wendy's Birthday Cake

This is the cake I made for Wendy for her birthday.

It's a bundt.

This is the top of the cake I made for Wendy for her birthday.

It's still a bundt.


This is the inside of the cake I made for Wendy for her birthday.

It's still a bundt, but here you can see the sheer magnitude of cream cheese frosting slathered over the top of it. Why did I slather four pounds of frosting on a one-pound cake, you may ask? I shall tell you.

This is the pan I used to make the cake for Wendy for her birthday.

It's a Williams-Sonoma Heritage Bundt pan. It makes very, very pretty cakes. If, however, one does not use a half a pound of butter or three-quarters of a can of nonstick spray, the pan will hold on to the cake with the desperate grip of a teenager on to the ankle of her favorite pop star. It isn't pretty.

Guess what happened.

Yup.

So, the cake parts had to be reassembled after being prised from the bundt pan's clutches, and unless I wanted to present Wendy with Frankencake, something had to be done. So it was. Something was done. Something involving butter and powdered sugar and vanilla and a vat of cream cheese.

If the cake imperfections cannot be seen, do they really exist? A little cake philosophy for you.

So the cake was slathered. And the imperfections were covered. And the cake and slathering substance were good. And a light shone down and peace reigned. For five minutes.

Until the fat and cholesterol hardened everyone's arteries and paramedics had to be called.

Hey, if you're making an omelette, or a bundt cake, for that matter, you gotta break some eggs.