I don’t think I’ll look at chocolate cake the same way again. I love chocolate. It’s my go-to choice for anything catastrophic in my day. I mean other than profanity, chocolate does it for family interactions, writer rejections, traffic, baby blowouts, college football losses and cliffhangers on some of my favorite AMC or FX shows.
I love the cacao tree. It’s awesome, but what this lady did with it in cake…not cool man…not cool. Bad things should not be happening to chocolate cake.
I went to another get-together in the afternoon and I didn’t repeat my food-a-thon from yesterday, but when I realized that they had chocolate cake, it was on. I was already thinking up an excuse as to why I needed to take two pieces home with me…you know, invent a relative that’s staying with me and say I’d like to take her some, knowing full well that I’d probably devour it at the stoplight.
I grabbed my piece of cake, not a sliver, not a slice, a healthy ginormous chunk of the bad boy and began eating before I sat down. The texture was different. Something was different about it. It was softer, but something was different.
When I asked where she got it, she said she had baked it herself.
“It’s my mayonnaise chocolate cake.”
“My mayonnaise chocolate cake. I saw the recipe it’s sometimes called the ‘Depression Era‘ cake because I guess in those times people used what they could find.”
If you don’t have butter, don’t be making it. Or at least put a label on it and say this is my mayonnaise cake, dig in.
Dude. Depression Era indeed. After hearing that I was depressed. In fact I was sick. All I could think of was a white vinegar-smelling blob trying to molest my chocolate. Apparently mayonnaise is an emulsion of ingredients that are normally un-blendable. Who wants that with their chocolate. I mean in a sandwich, I get it. Although I don’t really add mayonnaise to my stuff, I’m a deli mustard person myself. But I understand why people put it on sandwiches. It was intended to be a spread, not a major ingredient in chocolate cake.
I was completely grossed out. I mean I know there are eggs and oil in this white blob, but dude sometimes ingredients need to be mixed the cake way instead of forming a sandwich spread and then adding it to your cake as if it were pudding or frosting. I could feel my stomach yelling obscenities at me. It was one of those moments where you so wanted to throw up, but it doesn’t happen so you’re left with this sick feeling.
I was grossed out the entire day until the little white, blue and green packet rescued my stomach. Sal de Uvas Picot saved me. It’s an antacid imported from Mexico. One of the best things other than their Tecate or Dos Equis beverages. It rebooted my system and was thankful we had some in the medicine cabinet.
No more visits to Mayonnaise Lady. I don’t need anymore Tupperware, they sell Rubbermaid at Costco.