17 November 2012

Countertop Diaries

Once upon a time, the Ikea gods blessed me with a horse-shaped cake pan. I was overjoyed and made sure to bake a horse cake for whatever special occasion came my way. Birthdays. Holidays. Tuesdays. You know, important events.

One of my husband’s little sisters, Nichole, passed away several years ago from a brain tumor, and when we first started dating, I decided that a horse cake would be the best baked way to remember her. What little girl wouldn’t love a horse cake? The first year I baked an honorary horse cake it was a beautiful funfetti cake. It came out beautifully and I left it out on my apartment’s kitchen counter to cool before I put the icing on it.

My dog had other ideas for it. I was sewing away, like one does during baking breaks, while the cake cooled. My brother-in-law was at the apartment that day, watching tv in the same room. All of a sudden he said, “Umm, Julie? I think Bernoulli is eating your cake.”

Sure enough, that little booger had his two front paws up on the counter, as he was eating the back legs off of the honorary horse cake! I was so mad at that dog that I put him out on the balcony for a few minutes while I gathered myself.

The poor horse cake! It was for Nichole! I was upset about it, but all my husband did when he saw it was laugh and say, “You know, I think Nichole would have gotten a big kick out of an animal eating her cake.”

I think she would have, too.

This post is my entry into the Alt Summit Blog Contest sponsored by Wilsonart International, Inc.


  1. I'd like to take a second to point out that I thought this was a bicycle seat cake.