MY BIRTHDAY CAKE

Pity party. Lately, it's Big Occasion city. February is full of them, and it's my turn to take the advice I've doled out to so many others. The milestones we pass, even if they're passed up, guarantee deeper meaning as we face into them next year.

Tomorrow, it's my birthday. Let me be clear. Birthdays are not just a number for me, they are the annual moment for acknowledgment. They are important. Historically, they've been launched like small businesses, with a plan and a committee (on which I preside). This year, I'm a committee of one, and there will not be much of a firework display. I'd be sad about it if it weren't my decision, but in the middle of the night as I lay awake and worry, this is the clearest, most appropriate gift to myself. No birthday celebration.

We'll light the fire in our beautiful colonial fireplace. Music. The kids, the dogs. The next day, dinner with family. In order for it to feel alright to me I'll preside over the kitchen. Others might rather relinquish, in the name of being pampered. Not me. It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to...

My Birthday Cake:

ORANGE & BOURBON CHOCOLATE CAKE

Cake:
1/2lb bittersweet baking chocolate
1/2 c unsalted butter (1 stick, cut up)
3 tbsp bourbon (Maker's Mark)
1 orange, zested
4 eggs
2/3 granulated sugar
Couple tbsp shaved chocolate for garnish

Spiced Cream:
3/4 chilled heavy cream
2 tbsp confectioner's sugar
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/8 tsp cardamom
1/8 tsp ground cloves

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Butter/flour 9" baking pan, line bottom with parchment paper.
Melt chocolate and butter in a microwave, watch carefully, usually takes a couple minutes. Stir it to continue melting and not burn. Mix in bourbon and orange zest; set aside.
Beat eggs and sugar with electric mixer until pale yellow ribbons form, 6 minutes or so. Fold mixture into chocolate a little at a time. Pour into prepared pan. Bake 35 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean. Cool on wire rack.
With clean beaters, beat cold cream until frothy. Add confectioner's sugar and spices. Continue beating until soft peaks form (when peaks are droopy you're good.) Chill in fridge.
Serve cake on a plate covered with dollops of cream and shaved chocolate.

* Inspired by a cake served at the Spotted Pig, 314 W 14th St, New York.

MY CHILD'S BIRTHDAY

It’s been 3 weeks since John came home with no job. We’ve spent 3 weeks ringing every number and knocking on every door. We’ve bypassed the step containing shame and humiliation in favor of getting there before anyone else does. Our top priority, our daily agenda, our meaning of life is to make contact with people who have a job.

Tomorrow is our son’s 10th birthday. Read this post as permission to be a terrible parent while you go after those contacts. It is not Charlie’s fault that his birthday happens now, but oh how easy it is to wish he’d been born in June like the other two! Here’s how we’ve managed to pull off a birthday from the vacuum’s abyss.

Pre-layoff, we’d planned a night in New York City, climbing the wall at Chelsea Piers, renting a limo to take us to dinner at Jekyll & Hyde, 6 kids and the 5 of us. Post-layoff? Not going to happen. John absorbed the disappointment as totally personal (this will be a running theme) - we ran a close risk of allowing Charlie to blame it all on himself. As with many moments needing clarity since this all went down, I took John out for a hike in the woods near our house and I jumped in and brainstormed a bunch of cheaper alternatives. these included the ones Charlie wouldn’t go for - bowling, movies, ice skating…

What flew? We borrowed an air hockey table and are hosting the Charlie Hockey Tournament, complete with prizes (glow-in-the-dark footballs), pizza and SODA! We’ve got “Miracle” and “Mystery Alaska” to watch on TV. NHL ‘09 on the Playstation 3. The key selling point? Mom and the sisters have to clear out for the night. Works for me!

Here’s the thing - under any other circumstance we wouldn’t have hesitated to say “No Stretch Limo - you’re TEN!” But now, when John + I are dealing with our own sense of loss and lack of resource, saying NO feels like another nail in the coffin.

Friends, we cannot forget who we are in this process. Nor can we blame others for where we find ourselves. Especially not the kids, the ones in the passenger seat. My theory for tonight is this: in a pinch, serve ‘em soda!