I am not afraid. To bake. Anything. A tall cake. A short cake. A babka. A brioche. A cobbler. A danish. A pie - fruit, cream, meringue. You name it - I will bake it. And the results are always spectacular. Sometimes they're spectacularly magnificent. Sometimes they are a spectacular fail. But with every measured spoonful, with every sifted ingredient, there is the hope that this will be "the one". The one that will go down in family history as being the best/tastiest/most yummiest thing that was ever made. Every occasion will warrant one being made. Quarrels will erupt over the last slice/bite/crumb. Husbands will pester their wives to make it, then lament that it is just not the same. Children will grow up remembering how it tasted, and try to replicate it, but will fall just a little short. That elusive taste will forever linger in their mouths.
Dear friends, I will now confess, that this strawberry tall cake was a spectacular eh. It will not go down in family history. It will be devoured/enjoyed/gobbled down, but it will not be reminisced about. But, as I have already noted, I am not afraid to bake anything. And that includes another strawberry/sponge/whipped cream concoction. I will bake it again and again and again, until that I success in making my grandmother's "bishkopt" (sponge cake in Ukrainian, if you really wanted to know). That is the taste that still lingers in my mouth, the one that escapes replication.
Until that cake is made, I will continue to be fearless in the kitchen. And in the meantime, you can enjoy this one!
Adapted from Martha Stewart Living