We forgot my mother's birthday exactly once. And really, that's all it takes. Once and you will never forget it again. I mean completely forgot - no cake, no presents; not even a hastily crayoned piece of construction paper reading "Happy Birthday". The day after, in a pathetic attempt to make it up, my father brought home a cake; my mother laughed - a humorless, bitter sound if ever there was; a sound to make you want to wrap yourself in woolen blankets and move out of the house. We would not be celebrating a day late, we blew our one and only shot. Any other day but the actual day was going to be too late and we hung our heads in shame for an entire year. I mean, honestly, this is the only person in the world who will never forget your birthday, considering she was one of the main characters in the event of your receiving the gift of life. While we never forgot again, we often screwed up her birthday gifts - ugly ill-fitting robes with zippers (giving the wearer, regardless of size, the appearance of a poorly packed sausage), perfume purchased at the Woolworth counter (next to the lip balm and bubbalicious), handkerchiefs (again Woolworths) and I barely have the nerve to mention the slippers that appeared to be boots, which would work I suppose if your mother was Robin Hood. Gifts clearly purchased in haste, or worse, not taking the honoree into account at all. Gifts that screamed 'You are an after thought' at best and 'I hate your f*@*ing guts' at worst. It's amazing that she didn't throw these paltry items at us, or discontinue feeding us. We would have done better to throw greasy coins in an envelope, or to give her her own wallet. As we got older, we did a better job by actually asking her what she wanted; exactly what she wanted or needed. My father improved his practices as well opting for jewelry most of the time, although I was always sent around the corner at the last minute to purchase a card.
Alternately, our mother never once forgot our birthdays or provided shitty, useless, downright embarrassing gifts. Our birthdays she always got just right, except for one little, barely noticeable piece. If we didn't have a party (roller rinks, bowling alleys, McDonalds, or some other outside venue - mom was not a fan of having large numbers of children running around the house with a donkey tail and moving her dining chairs around) we got to have the meal of our choice. Sometimes it was pizza, sometimes chinese food; more often than not it was something homemade that required some large amount of time be spent by her in the kitchen. We still request the same meals: my brother gets stuffed peppers and I get loin of pork with sauerkraut and mashed potatoes and my husband has been known to get a veal cutlet request fulfilled. Our gifts were always something we mentioned we wanted or needed, or something we didn't know we wanted but realized that we did when they were presented - video games, the right boots, real perfume, hockey tickets. We asked and we received.
The only problem came when it was time for cake. As children, we didn't realize this was a problem and could have gone our whole lives without noticing, if our mother did not make such a drastic turnaround with the birthday dessert in recent years. Sara Lee or Pepperidge Farm frozen desserts were served without fail on our birthdays. You know those frozen cakes (iced) that cost like two for five dollars (well actually they're two for seven now, no doubt due to inflation). Chocolate iced, vanilla iced, coconut (you know it - iced) and I believe there was a strawberry shortcake type of offering as well. If defrosted in time, these cakes are quite tasty and provide a refreshing perspective on the idea of cake. I actually looked forward to my frozen, uniformly square cake each year and knew we were having a larger group than usual if she purchased two. My favorite remains a devils food treat with chocolate icing, but I won't say no to the coconut one either (coconut flakes included).
Somehow, along the way, my mother has picked up the knack for baking, so no more frozen delicacies for us. She now makes candy, toffee, brownies (with candy bars and powdered sugar that will make you need to change your underwear) and you guessed it - cake. These things are made from scratch (which I understand is hard to come by) and will blow your hair back, or at least make you re-think your love of Sara Lee. With my birthday coming up, my mother offered to make something that contained cherries and involved the word ganache. I'm certain that I looked confused and then requested Duncan Hines. Baby steps my friends.
This weeks tip: What with all the baking and confections being made in my mother's kitchen, it behooves her to figure out how to do these things with a little less fat than ordinary recipes call for. I like me some cake, but I like to fit in my jeans as well. For yellow cakes you can use applesauce or non-fat plain yogurt to replace the oil (equal measure) and for chocolate cake you can also use pureed prunes to replace the oil portion. While I haven't actually tried the prunes trick, I can attest to the applesauce tip. Really yummy, moist cake. Complete aside, I have used non-fat plain yogurt instead of mayo in chicken salad and it was fantastic.
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