Heather Heying on Natural Selections

Some things definitely aren't worth it. And some things seem like they aren't, but it turns out that they are, in the end. I've been resistant to many kitchen tasks of late. But yesterday I made a cake--a layer cake, with all of the hassle involved therein. The chocolate cake that I make is itself fairly involved, and has a cup of scalding hot water added at the end such that, if you're not very careful, you end up both making a mess and hurting yourself. And for the buttercream frosting, I made a coffee-infused egg white base, whipped up until fluffy, before creaming in loads of butter, to make a luscious coffee buttercream to go between and on top of layers of the deep chocolate cake (this is my version of a fantastic cake sold at Zingerman's in Ann Arbor, which they call "mountain of mocha"). The whole thing is involved and time consuming and of course the enjoyment garnered from eating cake is both fleeting, and also tinged with the recognition that there is no world in which eating such cake, no matter what honest ingredients I used, can be considered a healthy choice on balance. And yet. Not only is the cake stupendously good, but the act of making it was contemplative and lovely. In this case, then, it was worth it. Even though by most metrics, it shouldn't feel that way. (That said, with regard to Thanksgiving--which I do love and do spend a lot of time at every year--I have decided that I will no longer--or perhaps almost never again--attempt to make gluten free pie crusts by hand. There is no joy there. And the result isn't delicious anyhow.)