Nothing Plain About Vanilla

There's no sense crying over every mistake.

You just keep on trying till you run out of cake.

~ 'Still Alive' from Portal

Campers, you are all well aware that for me the hardest part about being a gluten guerrilla is the lack of easily-available, moist and delicious, common-or-garden cake.

As a result of adjusted expectations, however, my position on this sacrifice has softened somewhat in the past year. I now consider cake-on-demand a privilege rather than a right, a philosophy for which my waist-line is truly thankful. I have learned to walk past my local supermarket's bakery counter with sang froid and no longer look with green-eyed jealousy upon those lucky folks (sometimes they seem to lurk around every corner) enjoying layers of gateau smothered in snowy icing, oblivious to their good fortune and taking for granted the convenience of their access to sweet morning-coffee accompaniments.

As I said, all these discomfitures I am now able to take in my stride.

But sometimes a girl needs cake. Without delay.

She does not want to peel carrots or have to fabricate special ingredients such as apple sauce or pumpkin puree. She does not want to do the math required by the otherwise invaluable high-ratio cake concept.

Under such urgent circumstances it is a great boon to have a few boxes of good cake mix standing by. Although in my gluten-filled past I shunned such conveniences it is also true that in the good old days I could pick up a slice of something delicious just about anywhere. That, of course, is no longer possible. Nowadays, I must be more self-sufficient.

Many mixes, I have been forced to report with chagrin, are pure heartbreak. A notable exception to this maxim is the lemon cake mix manufactured by the wonderful employees of Dowd and Rogers, purveyors of almond and Italian sweet chestnut flours to Those In The Know. Although the company's flours and mixes are marketed as gluten-free products, I can testify to their equal appeal to discerning connoisseurs of all persuasions.

When Sir requested chestnut brownies as a welcome-home treat after his long flight back from Shanghai, I was dismay to discover that the Whole Foods in Edgwater, NJ no longer carries Down and Rogers products. For shame! I was forced to turn to one of the internet's gluten-free markets for satisfaction and discovered in the process that D&R offer a variety of mix I had not previously tried, Dark Vanilla Cake, hooray. I ordered two boxes and with high hopes finally got round to baking one this morning. A girl requires cake when she has been raking leaves and clearing gutters all day, am I right?

As usual, the ingredients in the tastefully-designed box were unobjectionable. Organic evaporated cane juice (I think that means sugar, but what do I know?); rice, chestnut, and tapioca flours; buttermilk; vanilla; baking powder; baking soda; and a little bit of xanthan gum. I added my own eggs, butter, and a splash of H20 and had the thing in the oven in less than ten minutes. The most laborious part of the process was retrieving my thirty-five-pound standmixer from the Metro shelving at the opposite end of the kitchen - attentive readers may recall that my loyal handmixer gave up the ghost in a puff of burning vapor back in August and has yet to be replaced.

As anticipated, the final cake was awesome in every respect. Sir declared it a winner and even the Kid Squid (who, having suffered disappointment on so many previous occasions, usually refuses to try the results of my baking efforts these days) remarked that it was 'not at all bad'.

The destructions on the box helpfully suggested a garnish of fresh raspberry sauce, but I chose instead to serve the cake with some whipped cream and home-made pineapple and vanilla preserves. I dusted the plate with some powdered sugar and dubbed the result The Madagascar Marvel, to much rejoicing.

It's good enough for company. But better yet, it's quick and easy enough to satisfy those sudden cake cravings.

This was a triumph.

I'm making a note here: huge success.

It's hard to overstate my satisfaction

... This cake is great!

- more wisdom from Portal

Acknowledgement: many thanks to the Squid for sharing with me the closing song to one of his favorite games. The lyrics contain such poetry and truth as to bring a tear to the eye of even the most hardened veteran of the War on Wheat.