Robert Frost said, “Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.” Well, my book group is the people who, when you screw up the dessert, they’ll still eat it and say “yum.”
I had signed up for dessert. It all started so innocently — cake and ice cream, easy, right? So I made a 1-2-3-4 cake from a really old stack of recipes that is somehow connected to Grammy (more on that another time). Great, simple cake, three layers, not too thick so there’s plenty of room for icing.
Then I started the icing. Again, a Gram recipe, this one marked as “Excellent!” in her handwriting. Caramel icing, meaning lots of light brown sugar, melted and swirling with cream, butter and vanilla. The kitchen smelled heavenly.
The trouble showed itself when I had to let the icing cool to room temperature, then beat it to thicken it up. Hmm, not much time. And I had used one of my favorite All-Clad pots, very heavy and thus superb at holding heat. I pulled out the arsenal of “cool it down” activities: The fridge for a bit. Ice cubes in a bowl, set the pot into that. Blowing on the bottom of the pot. Raking my fingers through my hair.
The icing would not set.
It was 7:30, time to actually BE at book group. I had three lovely layers of cake, two pints of ice cream . . . and a huge pot of caramel “sauce.”
I schlepped it all off to book group, arriving late and frazzled. In the warmth of that familiar circle of friends, I started to calm down. It helped tremendously that we were eating Bettina’s great food (for those of you who don’t know Loulies, that’s Bettina and Suzanne, and you want to know their food).
And the solution dawned: If the icing would not set, then I’d shred the cake too. Done. A pile of palm-sized cake chunks, piled on the antique cake plate and served with Bettina’s silver tongs, went around the table followed by ice cream — and the icing in a pitcher.
I love my book group: They said “yum,” and poured on the icing.

I-Love-My-Book-Group Caramel Sauce
Serves 10 readers, plus a husband and three boys who came home later
- 4-1/2 cups light brown sugar
- 1-1/2 cups light cream
- 3/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup butter (1 stick)
- 1-1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract


4 comments
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May 2, 2011 at 2:53 pm
Kathy Westra
This story reminds me of my most recent Twelfth Night party, which was also a birthday party for my friend Lorraine. The featured dessert was supposed to be a dense bittersweet chocolate cake, baked in a tube pan and frosted with mocha buttercream. Supposed to. The recipe called for letting the cake rest in the pan for 15 minutes, then removing the cake while it was still warm and letting it cool on a rack. Came time for cake removal, the cake tumbled from the pan, breaking up into too many pieces to make a buttercream patch job remotely possible. Dessert that night–which the birthday girl and the rest of my beloved friends pronounced perfect–was chunks of bittersweet chocolate cake topped with fresh Kahlua-laced whipping cream and a harmony-rich chorus of “Happy Birthday.”
May 2, 2011 at 2:56 pm
Bakingfamily
Love it! Cake failure, icing failure — there’s always a comeback.
April 27, 2011 at 10:11 pm
suzanne Simon
Love the “personal touch” – deliciously unfussy. I can’t wait to try the recipe in my kitchen.
April 27, 2011 at 10:15 pm
Bakingfamily
Thanks, Suzanne. This sauce recipe makes a ton; I may try to figure out how to bottle it at some point. And the 1-2-3-4 cake is coming next week!