They Say It's Your Birthday

Birthday cakes are important.

Yesterday, my colleague and friend Barbie had a birthday, and, when I asked her last week about her cake choice, she picked a carrot cake. So carrot it was, and I love it when people request carrot cake. Not to sound, um, high and mighty, but my (well, my family's) carrot cake recipe is just the absolute best. Okay, so that sounded pretty high and mighty. But, wait. Just stick around and this recipe will soon be yours. Then you can say that your carrot cake recipe is the best on earth. You will like everything about it.

To start with, it's just the easiest thing. Eight ingredients in the cake! Four ingredients in the frosting! That's twelve, friends, a mere twelve items. And chances are pretty good that you already have these ingredients in your fridge and pantry. If you are a bunny, you are even more likely to have all the ingredients on hand. If you are a human, though, you will be way more interested in actually eating the cake.

When I was growing up, we had magnificent birthday cakes. They were special because we pretty much only had cake on birthdays, so they were even more delicious because they were few and far between. As with many families, the birthday boy or girl got to pick their own type of cake, and then, on the birthday morning, it would seem to magically appear on the kitchen counter.

When I was little, I'd pick complicated cakes in the shapes of things, like a cat or a crayon, and my mom would order them from a local cake baker. They'd come with hundreds of pointy icing dollops, all applied carefully to create the final layer. I remember loving these cakes because they looked fancy, but I honestly have little memory of actually eating them, possibly because I blocked it all out. I was, actually, quite sad to deal with the part where we had to eat these sorts of cakes because, to me, they were art, and I couldn't understand why anyone in their right mind would willingly, decidedly eat art.

As I got a little bit older, I became less interested in cakes that looked like they had jumped out of a cartoon. I learned that fancy cakes are not always the best tasting, and I used this knowledge to pick my birthday cakes from then on. I loved, I mean loved, this cake that we called Jell-O Cake. I had this as my birthday cake for years, and, almost as much as I liked eating it, I liked watching my mom make it. It was fascinating! Lime Jell-O in hot, liquid form inside the yellow-ish cake, and lemon pudding integrated into the icing. It was like a science experiment, the creation of this cake. The cake would be made in a 9" x 13" Pyrex cake pan, and then, when it had cooled, holes were poked all over the top with a toothpick. Then, into those holes went the thick, green Jell-O concentrate, which, later on, would show itself as emerald green streaks in the cut cake. The topping was essentially pudding, which, because I've got my daddy's good sense, is one of my favorite foods, still. The whole thing would go into the fridge and then be cool and creamy when it came to the table after my birthday dinner. It was the perfect kind of cake for a warm birthday evening at the beginning of summer, when the world has just come back to life. Oh, how I loved that cake, with its gems inside and silk on top!

I got a bit older still and became more interested in branching out (or at least trying to -- I might have tried several others and then gone back to that Jell-O Cake). I chose a fresh strawberry layer cake one year, with pink-tinged insides, and frosting like swooping snow. That was the year, I think, when three friends came over to celebrate my birthday and we, somehow, were all wearing outfits consisting completely of blue. I experimented with choosing other kinds of cakes, and I did some research, copying potential birthday cakes recipes out of books at the library.

I did also get a lesson in what not to choose as my birthday cake. My brother always chose angel food cake for his birthday cake, and, honestly, I couldn't wrap my brain around it. (Was this actually cake? It was so light and airy! Where was the density? The colors? The depth?) To me, it was the perfect cake to have as a snack, but not the cake to have as The Annual Important Dessert. In my mother's defense, it was a delicious cake. It just wasn't ever my choice, and I remember when she'd ask my brother every year about his cake choice, I'd brace myself, hoping that he'd have come to his true cake senses. I waited, anxious, hoping to hear him say, I think I'll mix things up this year! Or How about something new this time? Or even just an unhesitating Chocolate! or Coconut! or even Plain Vanilla!

Now, in his defense (and I, a tenacious little sister, will certainly defend and protect him until the end of the earth) I will tell you that he has never had much of a sweet tooth at all. As an adult, he has a terrific palate, but still won't eat sweets unless it's required (not sure what kind of folks force-feed sweets to grown men, but I suppose anything is possible). So, I really do think that perhaps he chose the angel food cake because it was the cake that was the least like, well, cake. Think about it. It's not terribly sweet, and the consistency is closer to that of a summer cloud than an actual cake. If he would have had his druthers, it it entirely possible that he would have just chosen a cake crafted from blue cheese and Triscuits. We'd eat this angel food cake, though, for his birthday and sometimes also my dad's birthday, and I loved it because it was their cake. I also loved the pan that my mom made it in -- the false bottom, the center hole-maker -- and I really loved the way that it would sit upside-down on an empty Coca-Cola bottle after it came out of the oven. For everything that this cake (in my humble opinion) lacked in cake-ness, it did manage to redeem itself by doing circus tricks on the kitchen counter. And, as far as angel food cakes go, it was most certainly the best in town.

The cake that I remember my grandma always making for birthdays was a carrot cake. My mom, with the incredible good sense that she has, chose the carrot cake for her birthday (although perhaps there was never really a choice in the matter, considering my grandmother's strong will). When I got older, and turned into a real adult with exceptionally good taste (ha ha), I started choosing the carrot cake, too. Sometimes, I will even make it for myself for my own birthday, which makes me laugh, because who on earth (besides me) actually enjoys making their own birthday cake? I mean, mama's cake is always the very best, but when she's not nearby on my birthday, it's sink or swim!

When I ask friends what kind of cake they'd like for their birthday, I feel happy and proud. I'm happy because I love making cakes, and, no matter what anyone says, everyone needs a birthday cake. It's crucial. It's more important than presents or streamers or those tiny pointed cone-hats. It's not just sugar disguised as something fancy, and it's not just about eating the cake with people you love. It's bigger. It's the best part of any birthday. It's the candles and it's the wish. I mean, come on! We only get one cake-wish a year, and you've got to have a cake or it just won't work.

Also, I feel proud about cake baking. I feel like my mama taught me something. If someone chooses, say, a German chocolate cake, or a caramel cake, or a raspberry-basil upside down cake, it's an opportunity to find a new recipe, like how I did at the library when I was little, thumbing through the pages of the stained cookbooks, copying down the recipes on notecards because it felt so much more real than using the xerox machine. And even that, I think, I got from my mom, who wouldn't ever just settle for a cake that might be okay. It had to be perfect, and for that I am humbled. And if someone mentions that they might like a carrot cake for their birthday cake, I feel a secret little rush of joy. It is, after all, my specialty. It's the simplest, most satisfyingly rich cake you'll ever eat. The consistency is amazing. The color is astounding. It can be a round cake, a 9x13 cake, or even cupcakes. You can double it, triple it, make it into an Easter bonnet. You will love this cake. This cake, you'll see, was invented just for you.

Carrot Cake

2 C sugar
2 C flour
2 t baking soda
1 t salt
1 C canola oil
2 t cinnamon
4 eggs
3 C grated carrots

Mix dry ingredients in a big bowl. Add oil, then add eggs one at a time, stirring with a wooden spoon. Stir in carrots. Batter will be thick. For the love of all that is holy, please do not add nuts or raisins. There is no faster way to ruin a perfectly good carrot cake!

Grease (with butter) the bottoms and sides of two 9" round cake pans. Cut parchment to fit in the bottom, then grease the parchment and flour the entire inside of the pans. Bake at 350 F for 30-35 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. If you bake it in a 9x13 pan, plan on baking it for a little bit longer. If you're doing cupcakes, bake for much less time. Remove pans to cooling racks and let cakes cool in their pans for about 15 minutes, then gently remove them and let them cool the rest of the way, flat side down on the cooling racks.

Make the frosting:
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
1 lb powdered sugar
1 t vanilla

Cream the butter and cream cheese. Add sugar and vanilla. Mix well with hand mixer or upright mixer until creamy and delicious.

Here's the deal. If you are serving a lot of people, make the two 9" cakes separately so that you end up with more slices. If you only need to serve 12-16 people, then do the layer thing.

For layers: smear a little icing on your cake plate for glue and place one cake down on it (flat side up). Spread a layer of icing on top, then place next cake round down, flat side down. Frost the rest of the cake with the remaining icing. Try really hard to not eat it right away -- the birthday girl or boy might not be as understanding about cake-holes as you might like.

Coming tomorrow: birthday cakes are not always cakes. If you have a tropical sense about you, then you may choose to have a birthday pie, which is certainly acceptable and even encouraged in my world. In fact, my dad just had a key lime pie for his birthday in October, and it worked out just fine! Today, Jenna (friend/colleague/neighbor/incredible baker extraordinaire) asked for a key lime pie recipe because -- get this -- key limes are a buck a bag at this little market in our neighborhood. So, she's got the limes, I've got the recipe, and the weekend is waiting! Stay tuned, as they say. Stay tuned.