A few hours ago as I set out to decorate a cake for the party set to take place twelve hours from now, I found myself fretting over the ganache.
I wanted it smooth, sheeny and perfect. If it couldn’t be perfect, I didn’t want it at all.
Then I shook myself by the shoulders and said “Eva, get hold of yourself and consider for a moment that you’re making this cake for a group of three year olds. Now go to the pantry, get the can of pre-made frosting you discovered today and get the job done!”
So, I quit fretting and got to work on the ganache. (Just the threat of canned frosting was enough to snap me out of it) After all, some of the mothers of the three year olds will be showing up by cake time so I ought to make it worth their while right?
I gave up on smooth and perfect, but sheeny I could do and dark chocolate deliciousness could not be compromised. Now the cake resides in my refrigerator; rather lumpy, far from perfect, but pretty OK and all together good enough.
Oh, and by the way, I’ve got some extra ganache firming up in the fidge as well. Some time in the coming week, I’ll shape it in to truffles, dip it it dark chocolate and sprinkle it with sea salt.
Now who wants to be my best friend?