How did I get to be so beautiful? Ten cakes in seven days, that’s how.How did I get HERE here, on the internet? I grew up in a small farm town where we made as many cakes as we could eat. As a general rule, you need two three-tier eight-inch cakes f…

How did I get to be so beautiful? Ten cakes in seven days, that’s how.

How did I get HERE here, on the internet?

I grew up in a small farm town where we made as many cakes as we could eat. As a general rule, you need two three-tier eight-inch cakes for six adults. So we made a lot of cakes. And cookies. And pies, but only on holidays.

I’ve always loved baking, but for many years, I thought I had what I affectionately called “Fudge Fingers.” It’s a very technical term, so I understand if you’re not familiar with it.

Fudge Fingers

1. A lack of dexterity or skill manifesting in botched creative ideas

2. Inability to mirror the ideas in your head with their physical manifestation (see also I-can’t-drawism)

3. Digging into a cake without utensils, even though it takes, like, five seconds to wash a fork, Andy!

It turns out: I do have fudge fingers. It also turns out that having fudge fingers doesn’t mean you shouldn’t bake, or draw, or paint, or do whatever that little creative monster in your mind tells you to do. I hope the cakes in these pages, some original creations, and others from some of my favorite cookbooks, bring you as much joy as they bring me.

If nothing else, I cannot encourage you enough to pick up a box (or ten) of Betty Crocker Candy Eyes and place them on the next thing you eat. I guarantee you’ll have a giggle.