About a decade ago (gosh it has been a while), I tasted the best. cake. ever. The quality that made it my ultimate was texture: divine. Moist, just sweet enough, light, crumbly. Almost, but not quite, melt in your mouth.
I couldn't shut up about it. I described it to anyone who'd listen and was soon told, "It's all about the egg whites." I went home and tried and tried to no avail. Eventually, I gave up.
Fast forward ten years to Wednesday. My dear friend Nicola along with the scrumptious Gwen, braved the horrid weather to visit. This deserved something a little special. Cake. I set about measuring correct quantities into bowls, pre-heating the oven...
Then, a thought (or was it a memory?), "I have just six days to get through 13 eggs, why don't I substitute two egg whites for one egg?" whaaaaat? it was worth another shot besides, I had nothing to lose. Anyway things are different this time around. I have a mixer now = no more hand mixing + better results.
It turned out well. We polished it off with a pot of Lady Grey tea and a good chin wag while Gwen napped.
There is something so comforting about watching Gwen sleep. It's in the way she bends her little body, the rise and fall of her baby chest. She often has her teensy fist in her little mouth. I think she is figuring out which is to be her preferred digit to suck on. Sweet.