Saga of a Birthday Cake

Only a few inches of snow came in that flurry of flakes we had a few nights ago...but we've had windy, cloudy skies ever since. No matter -- Thursday was the Brick's birthday, and he wanted not only a cake, but THE cake:

      A Sacher Torte.

My family loves this deeply chocolate "torte" for the holidays. Who can blame them -- the cake was originally invented a few hundred years ago to impress a prince. And it's been a specialty of the Hotel Sacher in Vienna ever since. And oh my, it's good. Recipe's here, in case you're curious.

Why is it a torte, rather than a cake? Because like most European 'cakes,' it's partly made with breadcrumbs. Plus an entire package of chocolate chips.

The only problem: it takes some time to make. And I had a boatload to things to get done before leaving for the restaurant (and the Brick's birthday dinner). Including two piano lessons. But the Brick wanted this cake. So I started.

The cake needs seven eggs, separated into yolks and whites. (Thank God for the chickies; their eggs are so rich.) While the mixer was beating the whites, I started melting the chocolate, and got the rest of the yolk mixture done.

Only to catch the bowl with my sleeve, and dump it on the floor.

Yolks, sugar and breadcrumbs flew EVERYWHERE. I scraped most of the mixture up, nuked it, fed it to the chickens (who gobbled it down)...and started again with fresh eggs. Finally got the cake batter done, and poured into the pan. It looked a little funny, but I was in a hurry.

Then while cleaning up, I caught sight of the recipe. RATS -- I'd forgotten the flour! The cake batter had only been in the oven for 5 minutes...quick, I dumped the flour into the pan and gently stirred it in. Better.

I'd almost gotten the cake glazed and decorated when Piano Student #1 showed up. After the lessons, I threw the candles, some of the Brick's presents, and matches into a bag. Put the cake, looking beautiful on its pedestal plate, with a glass cover on top, in the back of the car. Tried to get the chickens into their coop (yeah, right), then roared off to pick up the Brick, who was working at a bus terminal.
     Hit a traffic jam. Finally picked him up -- then hit more traffic jams. One sudden stop caught the Brick off-guard -- he slammed on the brakes and missed by inches. The cake flew up, crashed back down. I didn't want to look. ("It's not too bad," said the Brick.) Thankfully, the glaze had 'glued' the cake in place on the plate, so it just looked a bit disheveled.

     Picked up Daughter #1, who was mad that we were late. Tried to find the restaurant, where we were meeting Daughter #2 -- the GPS gave us two wrong locations. (This has never happened before to us.) Finally got there...had a nice supper (whew), then realized that we had to leave in five minutes, or Daughter #1 would miss HER appointment back at her place.

     Did I mention that we were still having heavy winds that cut through the air like blades of ice? Standing out by the car was an expedition in itself. The Brick cut cake slices with numb fingers, and I shoveled them onto plates. (No candles -- they wouldn't have stayed lit, anyways.) Then we all hopped in the car and gulped cake down, teeth still chattering. We barely made it back in time for Daughter's appointment.
     Sounds strange for the Brick's birthday...but it's been one of several times we've had birthday cake in the parking lot. It's just too difficult for the girlies to get back home on a weekday evening, so we generally go to them -- and out to eat -- to celebrate. That means lighting candles on the cake in a parking lot. Or park. Or pulloff.

     Next year, I'm just going to ask the restaurant if we can bring it in.This was ridiculous.

I would chalk the whole experience up to "one of those days," but actually, it's been zany all week. I am barely keeping up. But I hope to do better soon.

Happy Birthday, David! Love you very much.

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On another Austrian note:

The second-oldest daughter of Baron and Maria Von Trapp died...the last original member of the Family Von Trapp to go. Maria Franziska had a weak heart as a child; one of the reasons an aspiring nun named Maria was hired to take care of her and her siblings. So much for weakness -- she outlived them all, at age 99.

     The obvious is coming next -- but I also need to mention that when I lived in Osterreich (I did for a summer, back in college days), the Austrians thought The Sound of Music was ridiculous. It opened (and closed) for one night in Vienna. Go figure.