I devoted this evening to making a ludicrous amount of buttercream frosting for our second cake decorating class. I didn’t post an update about the first class because it was one of several interludes in my parenting history I keep in a mental file called Mother of the Year™.
We were missing a couple supplies needed for the first class, which so bogged down the pace of instruction that we finished a half hour late. I also had some spontaneous short fuse moments. I ask for your pardon in advance for the following: some people have resting bitch face, but I also suffer from resting bitch voice when the pace of my day overwhelms me. That day went full bore from 5:30 a.m. to 8:30 p.m., and I feel awful that I failed to suppress that voice for the occasion.
Today I learned that 10 cups of buttercream is the absolute frosting capacity of a six quart mixer. The result was something my mother calls a “full mess.” A mess is “full” when you hope against hope that no one will witness the scene until it’s at least halfway cleaned up.
By the way, our instructor has been decorating cakes professionally for 42 years. Willie Nelson gave a free concert in my town 35 years ago, and she baked the cake for his reception. She had a snapshot of this cake, which contained a portrait in icing of the singer. It really looked just like he did back then!
When he saw the cake, he said, “I’ve been done in everything but frosting until today.”