Yesterday was the exbf's birthday (yay him!). Normally we head out to a restaurant of his choice to celebrate. Not this year.
His request was for me to make him the supper of his choice. And his choice? Barbecued ribs. I've only ever made them once before (a few weeks ago) and apparently he really liked them. He also asked for my mum's corn fritters. Which meant I had to call India. Nottaproblem, I usually call once every week or two. I must admit, because of everything else in my life right now, I went to the bigscarymegamart and picked up some coleslaw and potato salad.
His birthday cake? Well, I must admit I vetoed his first two wishes for much the same reason. He wanted a shoo-fly pie and then waxed lyrically about a Cadbury Creme Egg cake (not a cake with little eggs on it, but a cake made of fondant, held together by a chocolate shell). I, of course, get migraines from working with that much sugar, so I said "no." He flipped through Dorie's book and chose the chocolate chunk devil's food cake with marshmallow icing. I have to say that mine looked nowhere near as good as hers, but I've never been good at making big fluffy cakes.
We ate like little piggies and then had a humongous sugar high for hours...it was all good.