I have never claimed to be an architect. I've never even read a book on architecture. But I have read a few cookbooks in my time. And I really like cake. Chocolate cake to be exact. The other day I was in a restaurant and ordered flourless chocolate cake and a diet coke. The waitress looked at me square in the face and laughed while sputtering out, "Diet Coke?" Lady, that is one of the best combinations in the world! Don't mock me for wanting a drink with no calories coupled with a cake with a lot of calories. Don't do it. Then I shoved my face in the cake like Bruce Bogtrotter from Matilda and ate the entire thing while the waitress looked on and gasped at my bad manners [at least that was what I was envisioning in my head where all good plans are accomplished].
Last week while stumbling around the blog world I found this recipe for a Toasted Marshmallow Cake. It is made with buttermilk chocolate cake and has marshmallows in the middle. Could I honestly pass up making this cake in all its glory? Heck no. Was I really equipped to take on this baking feat with a tall cake? Not really. I'm not a proficient baker, nor am I am architect. However, I did not dwell on my incompetence or inadequicies. Instead I strove blindly ahead on a Friday night by whipping up two of the layers of my grandeous cake.
After they came out of the oven I decided that two layers just wouldn't be enough, so I made two more.
Thoroughly prepared [or so i thought, cue Jaws theme music] I set about making the filling for this cake. It involved a lot of butter. A lot of butter. And it involved fluff and marshmallows.