What is it with me and baking?

Robin and I are under some stress with our current money situation. I really do feel awful that I cannot find a job. I am trying - every single day.

Since things are a little tense, I thought I'd surprise her with a homemade cake. I am not fond of baking, but we when bought our house in Miami together, I hadn't been fond of cooking either, and now I love it! Maybe this cool mountain air will bring out the baker in me. (Approximately 55 this morning. Supposed to reach 80's this afternoon. BTW...not sure if I have mentioned this. Where we are, we get news out of South Carolina. There are two regions in this area - "the upstate" and "the mountains". We are in the mountains and they are usually about 10 degress cooler than the upstate. Always makes me smile.)

I found a recipe for peanut butter cake the other day. I had all the ingredients except for butter milk, so I splurged on a half gallon. I have a great oven fried chicken recipe that calls for BM (as in butter milk, not the other BM. Actually, I may a have recipe that calls for BM BM too - I'll look for it), so I can plan on making that this week. I also found a recipe for "super easy broccoli and cheese soup - that's next.

Back to the cake. It was a very easy recipe. I checked and double checked that I made it right. My first reaction was just to stir it really well, but did I? No. I went all the way to the pantry and got out the MIXER. "If I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna do it right", I thought.

The batter seemed a little on the watery side, so I checked the recipe for the third time. I had done everything correctly. I poured the batter in to two 9 inch pans and set the timer and waited. 30 minutes later, I removed them from the oven. The were the thickness of a decent size pancake!

I let them cool and then began frosting them with a canned milk chocolate frosting. The recipe called for homemade peanut butter frosting, but I thought the canned chocolate would be better. Certainly this is what they were supposed to be like and when I put one on top of the other, it would almost be like a real cake.

I cut a piece for Robin and a sliver for me. She took a bite and didn't say anything. "Well", I asked. "It's good." She didn't even look up. I took a bite and it tasted exactly like what a wet peanut butter sponge would taste like.

I must have made a face because Robin said, "You're not gonna eat that?", when she really meant, "Do I have to eat this?"

I took her plate and threw the whole thing out.

It seems that the only success I have in baking is baking homemade dog treats. And it's probably a good thing that the dogs don't talk.