I hate Valentine's Day. I don't need a calendar to tell me when I should get all googly over my husband. Nonetheless, after weeks of seeing everyone's cherubic treats, I started to have delusions of culinary prowess (I swear, it comes on like PMS lately).
So after dinner last night I made this for my luv4ever man:
If it's not glaringly obvious from the photo, it's an angel food cake. Light and fluffy my ass. The thing had so many rolls it folded into itself. I didn't even coat it with anything. I just served it dry and crusty to my husband. If you're wondering if he ate it, the answer is no. Our pet raccoons did.
Thankfully we have our love on which to binge and multiply. And the good news is that the bar for next year is very low. Like, in the basement low.