Crying Over Spilt Milk Cake

In my adventurous nature, I decided to try a new recipe; some thing rather different for me.  I have had the recipe once before, but mine wasn’t quite the same.  The demon was called Tres Leches (Milk Cake) which means three milk cake. 

Now there were three different versions on the net.  I tried the one that I thought looked interesting (I can see the horns on that devil now).  It has whole milk, sweetened condensed milk and evaporated milk and not to mention cream.  Now this cake is SUPPOSED to be moist and can I tell you mine was a bit like a brick? Okay give me some mortar and I will build a wall with this thing.  It tasted fine, but dense, more like a 10-"pound" cake.

Not that I didn’t try.  There was a whole can of condensed milk and a small can of evaporated milk that you pour on the cake after it is baked.  I stabbed the cake with gusto and with anticipation. I was loving the custard sort of taste the milk made. 

We even waited until the next day to make sure all the ingredients were soaked in well.  I took the cake out and whipped my cream with powdered sugar and frosted.  For a extra nice look I added roasted cinnamon on top.  It looked great.  It tasted okay (I say this in a generous way), but it was not light and fluffy at all.  It was sort of moist and not at all what I was expecting.  So today I poured more milk over the top.  We will see if it taste better.

Fortunately, my husband is a great “experiment eater”.  He liked the cake even if he had to slice it up! What a guy.  I suspect he is waiting until this cake is done so I can do the recipe from the Pioneer Woman website called “knock you naked brownies”.  The brownies sound so great, and dessert like.  But I will absolutely refuse to get naked!  Unless, of course it is 88 degrees again!  Wait maybe it is like knocking your socks off... only more so.... I better think on this.  Maybe hubby and I should do a trial run! LOL  Anyway, he finds redeeming factors in just about anything I cook or bake.  So, even a as dense as a brick, it was pronounced "good".

As it turned out, I picked the first day of higher temps.  We’ve been getting temps in the 60’s (unusual) and suddenly we jumped passed the 70’s right into the 80’s.  It is was 86 and hot hot hot!  Ok, now it was a labor not just of love but of sweat.  Geeze.

So, what do you do when your disappointed in a dessert you spent good money to make and something you were drooling over?

I guess I will try another one of the recipes, one with less than 9-( count ‘em) eggs.  The horrible part of the whole deal was the eggs, they had to be separated.  If you ask my husband I can break a egg yolk just by looking at it.  A master of fried eggs sunny side up, I am not.  But, thankfully they all came out great.  Of course that could be attributed to the fresh eggs from one of my church friends.  Some were a lovely shade of blue.  Made me think....hmmmmmmm why color eggs when you can buy’em that way.  I digress....as usual.

Well, that is all I am  gong to say on the subject of Spilt Milk Cake.  Live and learn I say.  I also live by the mantra “Change is Good” so I am going to try this recipe again, when my cholesterol goes down (only kidding, my cholesterol is great)

Until then, I will  grab a glass of milk and a bunch of Oreo cookies and pat myself on the back for finding a delicious alternative until I brave this recipe again.

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Easter, a Season of Surprises

Every year I look at the time of Lent as a time of renewal, reflection and renewal.  Easter for me is just not candy eggs and little girls in pretty frocks and women in flowered hats.

I have been brought up to believe in the wonder of Christmas, but as an adult I realized the power of Easter, when we are ALL born again.

It is easy to find yourself engulfed in the power of Christmas.  It is a season of hope, faith, peace.  It was through this birth that we Christians have become a “people”.  All is calm, all is bright.  But, it is during those tender times I remember the phrase about Mary, Jesus’ mother.  “she took all these things unto her heart and pondered them”.  Did she know of Calvary?  Did she know that she would loose her son, in order to gain a Son?

Every Christmas I shed a tear...... I cry sometimes because I realize I am the last of my immediate family.  I cry sometimes because I feel like an orphan.  But, I always cry because I know the fate of this little boy, all for the sake of me.

Easter is not one day, it is a season.  Lent.  Have we wrapped our heads around this?  In my younger years I practiced the discipline of denial.  Oh, how I held off on sweets until Easter and then gobbled up every one of those chocolate eggs!  Now, as a person of mature faith I find that Easter is a perfect season to give, to change, to pray what direction God wants my resources to go?  Can I not bring some sunshine?  A phone call, a card a kind word or two.  Make a donation to something or someone.  Invite someone to lunch?  This, for me, is sharing God. 

How do you explain the God who loves me like no other?

The only human thought I can connect Calvary with is one of a parent and child.  Would you not give all you have to save your child?  Would you not demonstrate your love in appreciation?

Surprise yourself this Season of Lent.  Take quiet time and reflect.  I mean really reflect.  Take the fullness of the season and pray for God to reveal how he wants you “walk the walk”.  During this time of self reflection, touch another with the power of the Holy Spirit that walks within you.

I lead a lot of Bible study classes and one of my favorite questions “are you a Christmas person?”  I am not speaking of the obvious, but hinting toward the spiritual.  Even more so, I ask of myself “am I an Easter Person?”  How do you thank someone for a sacrifice such as this?  You can’t.  What you can is do things in the spirit of love, faith, and peace.

All I ask is that you look into your heart and remember that Easter begins with Lent.  A season to cry, change and yes celebrate!
How can you share this?  Anyway you can.  Big or small.  Taking small steps of kindness to others, while wondering where God is going to lead you.

On Easter day I stand in the pew and during the fist chorus of “Christ the Lord Has Risen Today” I use to cry because of the harshness of mankind actually killed the Son.  Now I cry in thankfulness.  I will be with Christ in eternity.  God’s gift to man, that we should love for an eternity and be loved.

My, my what a surprise.  How can you not feel blessed?
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