Page 30 of The Golden Spoon
Betsy takes a bite feeling her teeth stick rather than glide through the crumb as she was anticipating. She chews as the cameras zoom in closer. Hannah knots her hands under her chin in suspense. “The cake is cooked well enough, but it looks like it has split. Did you try to put a broken cake back together?”
“Just a bit.” She winces.
“That’ll do it. It’s fallen over here.” Betsy nods, prodding at the cake a bit more. “And as I’d feared, your jelly hasn’t set.”
Hannah’s ears turn a bright pink, and she looks to Archie for salvation, but to Betsy’s surprise he sides with her.
“The sponge is far too heavy,” Archie agrees, tapping on the inside of the cake with his fork to show how unyielding it is. Hannah goes pale, and her face strains as though she might start to cry as Archie continues. “I also think that the buttercream is a bit too intense. It doesn’t taste like much of anything but is somehow still overpowering. I would have liked some flavor in there to brighten it up. Maybe some fresh berries or even some sort of compote in place of the jelly.”
“For a cake with so much raspberry color, I’m not getting much raspberry flavor at all.” Betsy hates to agree with him. “Stylistically, it’s a beautiful cake, though.”
“Thank you, Hannah,” Archie says crisply as Hannah’s slender shoulders slump in defeat, and she retreats wordlessly from the table.
The next cake is Pradyumna’s. It’s a slim chocolate tower, with a rich dark chocolate icing. The top of the cake is covered in crushed homemade peanut brittle and tiny chocolate bonbons held in place by expertly piped dark chocolate ganache. It is precise and beautiful.
“It’s a dark chocolate peanut butter cake,” he says, shrugging almost apologetically. “I know, not the most original pairing.”
“What matters to us is flavor and texture,” Betsy reminds him. “You can have the most creative flavor pairing, but if it doesn’t work, if the bake is off, it will fail.” She has seen far too many mistakes with strange combinations of ingredients. No one needs too much almond extract or, God forbid, rosewater in their baked goods.
She takes a bite, making sure to get a good part of the peanut butter filling. “It’s rich. Almost too rich,” she tells him through a mouthful. She feels as though she needs something to wash it down. Archie reaches past Betsy with his fork, and her eyes flick to him as he takes a bite.
“Oh, man, I disagree. This is so good,” Archie says. Betsy breathes in sharply, trying to control her anger. She’s noticed how much different Archie is with men than with women. He acts as though they are old pals. It has a strange way of leaving women out in the cold, she thinks, but maybe she’s just being sensitive given the circumstances.
“You’ll have to take it a bit more seriously if you want to keep improving,” she admonishes him gently. Of all of them, her and Archie included, the only one who seems in better spirits today is Pradyumna. She’s noticed Pradyumna’s stance has shifted a bit. His smile seems more genuine, his shoulders relaxed. He looks happy, unworried.
“Betsy, you’ve uncovered my terrible secret. I think baking is fun,” he says, grinning handsomely.
Stella is next up. Her cake is striking to look at, stacked in graduated tiers, so that it almost resembles half of a bee’s nest. It’s lightly frosted in that naked style, the icing scraped away to reveal the edges of the sponge, cooked to perfection. A honey-colored glaze drips attractivelydown the sides, and small fondant bees with almond sliver wings cling to the tops of the cakes; a few are even hovering on wire to look like they are flying.
“I must say I’ve never seen a cake shaped like this. What are the flavors?” Betsy asks, and Stella beams.
“It’s flavored with orange zest and honey.”
“It’s striking,” Betsy tells her.
Stella blushes and smiles broadly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“It’s a great thing,” Archie agrees, and does that annoying twinkle thing with his eyes. Betsy watches as Stella looks away from him uncomfortably, delighted to see that some people are immune to his charms.
Archie cuts into the cake with some difficulty given its novel shape and pulls out two staircase-shaped slices. He and Betsy take their bites.
“The cake is melt-in-your-mouth lovely,” Betsy tells Stella, savoring the light, fluffy flavor. “I don’t mean to sound too full of myself, but it kind of reminds me of one of my cakes.”
“Oh yes, your Optimistic Honey Cake!” Stella trips over her words in excitement. “I hope that’s okay. That cake is a huge inspiration, all of yours are. I just love everything you do.”
Betsy smiles primly, flattered but trying not to show it lest she be called out later for favoritism.
“You can really taste the orange here,” Archie says, smiling yet again, as though he is aggressively trying to charm her. He really can turn it on when he wants to, Betsy notes wryly. Out of the corner of her eye Betsy sees Hannah’s eyebrows furrow miserably.
“It really is quite delicious,” she agrees. “The thin layer of icing, with the tanginess from the cream cheese, pairs perfectly with the honey. Nothing is too sweet. Delicious!”
Lottie’s cake is last. This one is layered three deep, impressive for a moist, snacking-style cake, which normally couldn’t be stacked. Thebottom layers are bound together by a thick cream cheese icing, while the top is coated with a thick streusel crumble held in place by a circle of decorative piping.
“It’s a layered blueberry buckle,” Lottie says, looking at Betsy hopefully.
“Nowthatis another unconventional choice from you,” Betsy says, eyeing the streusel topping, an odd choice for a layer cake.
