Third Place in the Bake Off!

Teaming up my daughters for the bake off turned out great! All four of them felt the sense of accomplishment for having chosen their projects and seeing them through. It was a lot of hard effort but they did it and two of them won the third place prize for “Apple Cinnamon Buns.” What joy to experience the fruit of such labor (and trust me, for the two that did this project, it was labor).

After a crazy day of baking, my girls gathered their finished “masterpieces” and carried them to the homeschool picnic. There was lots of food and fellowship and we all had a great time. After stuffing ourselves with all of the wonderful variety of foods came the “daddy dessert judging.” Kids made so many tasty treats. There were cookies and cakes, cobblers and puddings. The first place winner made a Twix pudding cake. Although I didn’t taste it (watching my figure a bit as I get closer to birthing day), I heard the dads talking about it.

The second place winner made a strawberry cake. I heard one dad taste testing the cakes and, although the cakes were apparently all quite tasty, my eldest and younger daughter won him over with the moistness of their blueberry frosted yellow cake (which they named “the lavender”). That was a great sense of accomplishment for my very insecure eldest baker. She’s always self conscious of her skills in the kitchen. However, she was really pleased to come home with only two slices of cake (that Daddy demolished as soon as he got home). I was pleased to hear that she’s going to do something more creative next year.

I promised that I’d get some pictures up of them slinging flour all over the place. As soon as I can get to them, I’ll certainly do that. Meanwhile, I want so share with this little poem:

Like Mother Made

(Hariett Ford)
Of all things said about the cake
Unkindest were the words,
“It’s not like Mother used to make.”
I wish I hadn’t heard.
Like Mother used to make indeed.
Of course not, you forget,
Mixes, Teflon, microwaves were not
invented yet!
But just to please my gourmet groom,
I baked a cake from scratch.
No mixes, nothing artificial
Went into the gooey batch.
It had the strangest sunken place,
The center was a pool of runny
frosting poured thereon
Before the cake was cool.
I stood with rolling pin in hand and
dared him to criticize my cake.
“Why, Darling,” said he, “this is grand.”
“It’s just like Mother used to make!”

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