Current Mood: dandy!!!!

There are many names for this amazing sheet cake. My family calls it, simply, "Chocolate Sheet Cake." Some call it Texas Sheet Cake or Sheath Cake. I've renamed it to reflect its flavor, as you can see in the title of this post. We'll call it MIFSCOL for short.

MIFSCOL is basically the best sheet cake you're gonna find. It's extremely moist, rich, gooey with frosting, and just altogether addictive. The best part is that in addition to being my favorite sheet cake, it's the easiest. You can throw this together in 30 minutes or so -- including baking time! You don't even need to wait for it to cool before frosting.

I promised I'd share this with you because it was the basis for my Ice Cream Cupcakes in a previous post. Whether you use it to make those cupcakes or just eat it by it's lonesome (or with ice cream!), you should definitely plan on baking this soon.


MIFSCOL

( recipe )


To read about how Pioneer Woman did NOT steal this cake recipe from my family, see more sheet cake photos, or see another recipe I've used this cake in (Chocolate Chickie Cake Balls -- perfect for Easter), head over to my baking blog, Willow Bird Baking!

x-posted to food_porn, bakebakebake, and cooking

Tags: dessert: cake

We struggle to recall what every sparrow must already know
The secrets that are held within this season's store of fading snow
How much further shall we wander
How much longer shall we wait
Until we leave our worry in exchange for wonder of our fate
To move within the simple
To discover whats within
To see that it is underneath, no matter what the skin
So we'll scratch the surface pleasures
Until truth devours lie
And we move in this together
Finally unafraid to die

For what redemption to arise
From sinking ships thought lost at sea
What fearsome dread has now been quelled
And settled by mortality
Though precious seeds once set in soil
Are covered with the harshest dirt
A blossom lays in wait for spring
To call it forth and balm the hurt

Where are the etchings?

The ones gone so far away,

A memory of the missing,

In a place called simply ‘melody’.

 

A somber tune, a wretched voice,

A night’s full moon, a gun of choice,

The papers flying, everyone trying,

To save her, to save it, to save me not at all.

 

Toss the gladius high,

To feel the breeze it sends.

A bloodbath for the crowd,

Who mocks this string-less puppet wild.

 

Forlorn, and senseless,

Crematory, vent-less,

Broken wings jump careless,

Death’s embrace to caress,

 

Exitus In Dubiō est.

Does anyone have a tried and true kosher for passover apple cake recipe? I've been invited to a seder and was asked to make a non-chocolate dessert. Thanks!

Hey, guys, I'm posting this half to get it off my chest and half to see if anyone has dealt with similar issues and has suggestions for dealing with it...short of a voodoo doll. :)

I've just had my latest installment of people trying to "teach" me the importance of being on time.

Background story: Same as a lot of people, I'm sure. Problems with DPSD, default sleep schedule of probably 6AM to 2PM. I have a 9:00AM class that I have to be up on Tuesday before 6 and Thursday at probably about 7:50 to be on time. Big surprise, I'm late pretty often, despite my best efforts.

Anyway, we have an assignment due at 9AM on Tuesday. "Not 9:01. If it's on by 9:01, we get docked a letter grade." (The last assignment, after driving 2 and a half hours and being late because I was sick at my stomach and had to go back in the house after getting in my car, I walked in one minute late with the assignment.)

Fine, whatever. Dock me a letter. It's not fair, I think, but life isn't either.

But no. We had to do a nice detour in class about "people walking in fifteen minutes late...not naming any names," "Some people are being slackers this semester," and "Deadlines are deadlines. It doesn't matter." It was about five minutes of pointed discussion clearly aimed at me.

At this point, I'm so mad that I'm shaking and ready to cry. I'm torn between saying something on the way out of class and knowing that if I do, I'll probably say more than I should.

The irony is that I was feeling so good about myself this week because I actually feel like I'm making progress and managed to fall asleep before one two nights in a row and was actually awake yesterday at 9, about an hour before I had to be.

But yes, please keep humiliating me. Clearly, my problem is only caused by my own laziness and lack of motivation and drawing attention to something that is a much bigger problem in my life than it is an inconvenience in yours. If you keep doing it enough, I'm sure that I will magically snap out of my problem and get to have a nice, normal 11 PM to 7AM sleep schedule.

Tags: being invalidated by others, delayed sleep phase syndrome

I was wondering if anyone has a favourite recipe for banana bread! Or perhaps one with chocolate chips?

Banana bread is delicious!! So good.

Thanks guys!

Oh Isabelle, how I wish I could turn back the time… Sometimes, I wonder what might have happened if I told my best friend before that I was madly in love with her, that she was and still is the one my heart beats for. I am torn inside out.
(continue reading Chapter 2 part 2)
(also read Chapter 2 part 1)
(also read Chapter 1)

He Sang A Good Song1

If I could ask just one favor
I would not ask for forgiveness
or peace, or those shards of my heart
you keep locked in the closet.

I would ask you to be silent;
to forget me in the sunlight
and my scent in your sheets.

Don’t speak.
Don’t retell the story of my back against your pillows
or the shuttering words seeping toward your ceiling.
Don’t remember the ripple of my anger
or the sharp burn of my tongue.

Forget my lashes.
Forget my crooked smile and my insecure arms.
Forget all the whimpering details I once entrusted.

If you must, erase
the memory of my lips against your cheek
and the ring that held hostage your hand.
Let me and all the laughter fade into hazy unremembering.

Just don’t paint my picture
or reveal the stained glass of my soul
to the new voice that beckons
and the new heart that beats
under the sheets of your bed.
_________
1. From Roberta Fleck's "Killing Me Softly"