I love books like Lunch in Paris, which include recipes inspired by the lives of the characters. I love that the recipes are more often than not simple and fun to read, and that they are part of the story itself (a pasta, for example, made with whatever’s in the fridge because the new lovers can’t stay out of bed long enough to go to the store).
So when I read about the Yogurt Cake that Elizabeth Bard’s husband makes in Lunch in Paris (apparently the first cake that French children learn how to make), I thought: perfect! I usually can’t bake to save my life (I’m a pinch of this, touch of that kind of cook, and you just can’t be that way when it comes to baking)…but if wee ones can do it, well, I probably can’t screw it up too much.
Wrong. So wrong.
As it turns out, though, it tasted quite good (or at least not totally disgusting), and Kendrick happily ate the big slice I handed him. And had seconds. Yee!
I brought the rest down to Stephen and Dave’s, sort of sliced up and decorated with limes (which don’t make a lot of sense, but added some nice color to the plate), and it was demolished in short order. Having lots of boys around comes in handy sometimes.
The moral of the story: All cake is good cake.