Heaven Can be Devilish

"Mastering the Art of French Cooking" (First Edition) by Julia Child (and Simone Beck and Louisette Bertholld).

This is a beautiful cookbook.  I watched "Julie and Julia" with my parents the day after Christmas and fell in love with french cooking via Hollywood and a beautiful blogger.  Filled with inspiration, I recently made the Chocolate and Almond Cake on page 677.  Oh my.  I have never made a cake from scratch and previously looked down upon chocolate cake as they came out dry more often than not.  But this was not the case.  After a morning excursion to Shop Rite and the local liquor store to buy some quality rum with the help of a lovely gentleman, I returned home to participate in my own personal bake-off.  I preheated, whipped, beat, folded, sifted, and folded some more until I had concocted the most delicious chocolate cake batter this side of the Atlantic.  Of course I licked the extra batter from the spatula and emptied mixing bowl like a jumpy seven-year-old with a delighted grin on my face.  And after impatiently waiting for my lovely baked delight to cool for at least an hour after it came happily out of the oven, I iced it with the best damn chocolate icing ever. 

Then, I ate some.

 Oh.

 Heavenly.

What I did not consider when making this divinely scrumptious dessert was that it was meant to be shared, and while I do have a lovely housemate that gladly eats whatever I cook, there is a limit to his intake on heart-stopping cakes.  I do not have this limiting gene and thus have now eaten the majority of my irresistible creation.  This is not good.  I am now on the prowl for a gym membership.

New Year's Resolution:  Bake what you will, but be sure you have someone (or some five) to share it with.