Chocolate Peanut Butter Cake

Today is my anniversary.

And, no, this cake does not contain apples in any form (or pumpkins either). And you cannot eat it for breakfast; at least in America. In America we have standards for breakfast. And sometimes logos.

Also, I can't take credit for it. I got this recipe off of smittenkitchen and did not (cannot) in any way improve on it. The cake is light, moist, chocolate-y. If you are one of those who claim that homemade cake cannot be as light or whatever as boxed cake, then first of all, our friendship may be at risk, but fortunately, it is redeemable because this cake will prove that you are in every way incorrect (see what a good friend I am). This cake is moist and light in that cake-boxy way without being flimsy (sorry cake-boxers) and with all the chocolate-y, flavorful, real ingredient goodness the cake box people don't get (like, at all).

And the peanut butter frosting. It it is frosting nirvana, frosting heaven, frosting paradise, frosting whatever-higher-glory-your-religion-believes-in. It was even better than the cake. In fact, having it on one's anniversary may be a bad idea because I believe that it alone could fulfill any needs a woman may ever have (I exaggerate, Kip. Of course I will always need you, especially if you are covered with this peanut butter frosting). We love peanut butter in this house. That is no surprise. But I was worried this frosting would be that sort of heavy, stick to your mouth kind of thing--like peanut butter fudge in liquid form. Which just wasn't what I wanted on my cake. This frosting was not that. It was creamy, soft, and smooth with the exact right about of peanut butter. Would that there was an adjective for it, but I cannot find one. The balance, texture, and flavor were, for lack of a more interesting word, perfect.

And the ganache was, simply, ganache. Generally, you can't go wrong with ganache. Although, I will say this: I reduced the original recipe so that we only had one layer and missed having more of that peanut butter frosting between layers (have I mentioned I enjoyed this frosting). I felt with the one layer that the chocolate-y ganache out-balanced the glorious peanut butter. Kip did not feel that way, so pick your poison.

And speaking of poison, with this cake in the world, I'm not sure why anyone feels a need to use drugs. This cake was mood-altering; it was love-inspiring; I'm quite sure it gave me more energy. Furthermore it is not illegal (unless eaten for breakfast in America) and will not make your teeth fall out (at least not at age 20). You don't even have to go from store to store buying non-suspicious amounts of cough syrup to make it.

Before eating cake we went out for lunch at TGIFridays. It was so so. I have decided that all these restaurant chains must all have the same supplier. I feel fairly confident that all the breaded things, sauces, and mixes just come to them in tubes or boxes and they just mix it up and put in on a plate for you. For this we paid over $15 and that was with a coupon. It's not that it was terrible. It just wasn't great. And one of the dreadful things about being a cook and a cheapskate is that you sit there and figure up how much the ingredients would have cost had you made them at home. For about the cost of my meal (Parmesan crusted chicken with a exactly 5 tortellini and a very average tomato salad--$8.50 plus a tip), I could have bought a free range fryer chicken (about $5 here in Evansville), a bag of decent tortellini ($2 at Aldi), a couple cups of shredded Parmesan from Aldi ($1.99), a cup of cream ($1 or less) and sprinkle of mozzarella ($.50). Easy. And it would have been more than one meal. And I would have been full after eating it. Which I was not when we left TGIFridays. And I am a 130 pound woman. I proposed a new eating-out rule to Kip, which is that we either eat at Golden Corral (Kip's favorite) or at some sort of small independent place that does not get their sauces in big bags from a supplier.

Tomorrow we will return to not-illegal-to-eat-for-breakfast-in-America (though lacking a logo) apple-hood. For today, celebrate with us. Let's eat cake.