Today this slave is making Master a special cake. There isn't any special occasion, no day of birth or anniversary; a new star that has born in the cosmos in a blast of a trillion fireflies thousands of years ago only now blooming in our sky.
The dry ingredients first, a simple array of cake flower; light and fluffy. Sugar; granulated and sweet as sin. Baking powder to help it rise to the heavens like the arms of the devoted and salt, for balancing and purifying the pallet.
This slave mixes the butter and sugar slowly. The steady rhythm of my wooden spoon against the mixing bowl.
Then the wet ingredients all measured out perfectly; buttermilk for the creamy texture on his lips, a silk kiss. Vanilla, fresh off the bean this slave scrapes the rines. Eggs, fresh collected this morning to help richen the mixture. Butter; yellow and smooth for the bounce in its sponge.
Next are the eggs beaten in slowly one at a time. With each crack, this slave imagins Masters eyes close in ecstasy as his lips wrap around his sweet treat. Presented to him when finished.
The flower, baking powder and salt are added to the butter and sugar mixture. This slave laughs a little as it fluffs up and into her face, a streak across her cheek; the hazards of art. Then buttermilk last, a satain stream of thick liquid mixes into her sweet batter filled bowl.
Now she must butter the pan and pour this delicious surprise into it, baking at 350 for 15 min.
The frosting is next while the cake bakes, a warm bed of the finest quality.
This slave adds cream, fresh from her friend farm this morn. Butter softened to room temp for easier mixing, vanilla fresh, harvested earlier with delicate fingers and salt for balance and purification, the most important part of my treat.
As the cake is pulled out and cooling I make some fruity pebbles rice crispies to add on top in cute little shapes.
Butter, marshmallow and the pebbles are all that's needed. His childhood favorite will be added with love, to help him remember the good times of old.
The frosting is added to the cool cake; smoothed with care, every detail must be perfect. Will Master like this gift?
This slave is now covered in flower and frosting in random places, she doesn't remember how she got so messy. As she cuts the crispies into little star shapes and standing them at the base of this cake for a little dash of her heart as well.
Now this slave must wait for her Master to come home, and for dinner to be finished, so that she may show him her finished product.
A cake for her Master.
-Pandaish
