As teens growing up my sister and I lived in a small town called Noosa. There isn't much there except beaches and restaurants. We both lived in run down share houses. We both dated a fair amounts of inappropriate men. We both thought we fell in love a lot. We both never did. We both wanted to leave town, and we both worked hospitality jobs.
I was always back of house, in dodgy cafes, baking cakes and cooking breakfasts. She was front of house serving customers in fancy restaurants. She had long blond hair and was gorgeous, in black skirts and work aprons. I had short red hair, flour covering my chefs clothes, and wore a head scarf. We both dreamt of better things, better jobs, better pay, better relationships and better clothes.
Life was simple, not like now, but at least it was simple. On her days off she would go eat out with her boyfriend at an expensive restaurant. On my days off I would try new recipes and go to cake decorating classes. Sometimes we would have picnics together. Sometimes we would bake six gingerbread houses together (which would get bored of, and making someone else decorate for us.)
Now we are a bit more grown up. We have nicer houses. She has a lovely boyfriend. She is studying natural medicine and I go to pastry school. We live far apart and I miss her a lot.
When we lived in Noosa sometimes I would cater for weddings. I would spend hours in a tiny kitchen covered in chocolate and decorating three teared cakes. When making a wedding cake its really important to trim it down to size. You don't just bake it and decorate it. First you have to cup off any crust (because it will be dry) and then trim it so all the layers fit together perfectly. My sister used to love the trimmings I shaved off chocolate mud cakes. Id wrap them up and bring them home for her to snack on. I called them "scraps" and very soon she started calling me "scraps," and was always begging me to bring home more pieces of broken cake.
Today I'm making a six layered chocolate cake layered and decorated with cream cheese frosting. Its cooling on my bench right now. Its the best thing I've done all week (seriously......I mean it. I have been grumpily making my way through ten hour shifts at work, and putting in minimal participation of studying my business course at pastry school.) Soon I'll be icing it and trimming off the crust. It makes me wish my sister was here. She would eat all the broken bits and sit on the bench with a cup of tea, and harass me. She would tell me off for being a rat bag, and give me good advice. She would sit me down in a cafe and order me mushrooms or toast with spanish sausages. I know she would........because she always always takes me out for breakfast or drinks when life gets a bit rough. What I am learning is this........ boys often don't call you back when they say they will, but your sister will. You can get your heart broken 1000 times, but cream cheese frosting on a chocolate cake will never, ever let you down.
The moral is:
- I'm baking a super amazing cake.
- Always trim your super amazing cakes.
- I'll post the recipe when I can be bothered
- I miss my sister