Tiramisu Cake Duo: aka BAM

WARNING: I am extremely sarcastic and while most who know me are very aware of this, it does not translate well when used in online forums. The greatest compliment I've ever received was that my deadpan is reminiscent of Bill Murray's. Now imagine trying to read his blog about baking. I hope you get the point.

With that out of the way, there is a girl I know who is all right. I am sure I could do better as far as friends go, but I'm lazy and it's purely a matter of convenience. So she comes to me with this recipe and says, and I quote, "Oh baking goddess of the northern United States, please guide me in making a Tiramisu Cake as I feel emotionally and intellectually ill-equipped to perform such a task. If you do this, I will forever be in your debt." So I decide to help her out of pity. Not because she's my friend. No way.

Let the cake adventure begin!

We first began by making the espresso syrup and concentrate, mainly her tasks since I was sure she'd accidentally spit in it or something. She's gross and spits on things. So anyway, here is a picture of her hand doing the things:

Notice how her hands shake with anxiety over the simplest task...

She continued making the concentrate while I made the cake batter, a very simple task so I spent much of the time taking pictures of her as she struggled. Here is more evidence:

 

Still shaking and hiding her face in fear. Fear of what, though? Failure? Of this I am sure. Back to the god damn point, there's the concentrate. We weren't able to find espresso powder, which is what the recipe called for and this lead to what you'll find to be my one gripe with this cake. Before that can happen though, I must continue to degrade whatsherface.

As proof that I did in fact do something for this cake, here you can see the cake itself with the extra added perk of an owl shape baked into one of the two made. There were actually two layers, but only one displayed my awesome abilities of baking assorted avian shapes into things at random.

Sometimes I stare in the mirror for hours looking at my face in awe of my skills and stunning beauty.

Then came the time to ice the cake, something that who-the-hell-is-that did surprisingly well. We made the icing ourselves with everyone taking turns at whipping the cheese and heavy cream. Seeing as I had to yet get a mixer, this was an arduous task and resulted in comments about my "guns" from the girl I keep talking about. Clearly she has yet to learn basic social skills, something at which I fault her greatly.

Before and after being dusted with cocoa powder, the deliciousness was close at hand.

Looks good right? Well we were all so excited about this that we decided to put on some David Bowie and dance.

There she is, looking down at the ground in shame of her inability to dance, interact with animate objects, and sweat. The other two are great though and really outshine her in every way. They are just great company and so I fed them the cake after I convinced her it was time for me to go to bed. Here are the cake's innards.

So here is my gripe: the cake was pretty dry. The espresso, being regular and not powder, I think lead to the syrup not infusing properly into the cake. Even after sitting overnight, it still was delicious frosting with some pretty dry cake that didn't balance out. I would make this again, but only if I had access to the espresso powder and I would definitely make it with Whatsherface. She's a great sport, a good friend, and always a joy to be around. She should really work on the sweating thing though. Her B.O. is out of control.