Avid Inkling

Every now and then I like to try my hand at something new and different, so to celebrate Dad’s birthday (he is as old as dirt, and Sean Connery) I decided to make a Pineapple Upside-down cake. Everything was going fine until I noticed the recipe called for “6 tbsp. of cake flour, 6 tbsp. of almond flour,” nor did I have the pretty pineapple rings… I had pineapple chunks…

Minor set backs. I don’t care how aesthetically pleasing it is as long as it cooks thoroughly and tastes fantastic (sort of like my black forest cherry cake from a previous post).

You would have thought that by now I would know NOT to measure vanilla (or any other potent highly flavored liquid) directly over the mixing bowl… I’ll leave it at the recipe called for 3/4 teaspoon, oops there. I also should have added the eggs separately (my hands were already gooey from the first egg that collapsed, what was I supposed to do? get the mixer eggy?)

The recipe really should have had more than 3 directions (that or I should’ve read ahead), but Step 2 should have been divided up into several smaller steps instead of a block paragraph. I don’t think it matters in the end, it is all going in the same funky pineapple ringed cake pan. I think I also might have added a bit much baking powder, as it baked, the cake looked like it was trying to grow out of the pan.

After an hour in the oven, the cake still had a rather liquid center, I was forewarned about this by the recipe. After an extra 15 minutes in the oven, the “tester,” an over sized toothpick, came out with out any goo on it. Then I had to wait… and wait… and wait, fifteen long agonizing minutes, oops there, 10 long agonizing minutes.

I sat looking at it, wondering how it would turn out. Would it fall apart when I rotated it upside down? Would it really be baked all the way through, never mind that I stabbed my “tester” into it about thirty times to check… Would the pineapple and brown sugar unstick nicely from the top of the pan?

The moment of truth was arrived quicker than I realized. I carefully rotated the cake on to the platter, and I went to lift the mold off using a dishtowel to protect myself from the hot metal. It was stuck. I had used a “nonstick” baking pan that dated back to my grandmother’s day. Great. Not to be deterred I attempted to lift it with by hand, which only resulted in the scalding of my fingertips.

So much for that. I found two forks and slowly pried the cake free. Success was mine! The cake looked… edible, a bit heavy on the bottom where it had tied to escape over the pan, but not all together bad either. You could tell what it was supposed to be. The pineapple chunks looked like sea junk that had been imbedded in fresh wet sand, and the cake sloped down gently to the pooched rim around the bottom. It looked sort of like a demented sand castle.

The crumbs encrusted around the rim of the pan were quite good. I didn’t dare slice into the cake just yet. That was for Dad’s birthday.

It was kind of fun, he’d come into the kitchen a few times and asked what I was baking. I muttered something new and different, he peeked in the oven: “Corn bread?” he guessed. “Angel food cake?” I grinned. He went to check his e-mail.

I had mentioned it to him earlier in the morning, but he was busy checking his comics and I don’t think he quite realized I was talking to him about something I was going to undertake later, but he did respect my wishes to leave some eggs for me and not to move the butter I’d put out to warm up to a near-liquid state (it said room temperature, and mom likes to keep the house at about 80).

With the cake safely hidden under the ugly green pot (so Dad theoretically wouldn’t see it) I went off to do other grand things. The cake wouldn’t be unveiled until his birthday, April 25.

The phone rang and mom announced that she was having a lunch break from substituting, she then announced that we would be having a small surprise party for Dad at 3:30 that afternoon. That was nice, I had returned to bed and was continuing a midmorning nap.

Dutifully I dragged out of bed, plodded down the stairs and went about straightening up the dining room table. I doubted it would stay cleared long, it never stays clear long. After the table was cleared, I returned to my napping.

After lunch, I did the dishes, finished clearing and de-crumbing the table. Then I found the placemats, pretty plates and fancy silver dessert forks. I was pretty sure Dad hadn’t peeked under the ugly green pot. He hadn’t.

The pineapple upside down cake was a terrific success.