Tragedy to Triumph

When my third-born asked me to make him a train cake for his birthday I was delighted.  Trains, I know thee well.  With three boys I've made more trains than you can shake a stick at and figured it would be a piece of cake.   So imagine my disappointment when on my 7-year-old's birthday, I created this monstrosity.

I should not be surprised the dessert gods were not smiling down on me.  I dared exercise during the baking and cooling---blasphemy to true dessert lovers everywhere.

Upon seeing what was going to be the beginnings of a glorious train cake, turn into a pile of crumbs, my child's eyes grew big, his lips quivered and then I said, "Whoa, I made a train graveyard."  His eyes lit up.  I had struck gold.  Apparently, it really is all in the marketing.  His mouth smiled wide; who needs a train, when you can have utter train carnage!  He refused all my suggestions on how I could improve the aesthetics.  "No," he said, "it is perfect."



Thankfully, food doesn't have to be pretty to taste good.  You just need real ingredients: butter, cream, chocolate--you know what I'm talking about.  And when you aren't seven, it is especially nice when you can turn something ruined into this...