Tres Leches Cake - Now, THAT'S a threesome
BAM! It's Sunday, I swear the weekend goes through some kinda time warp where hours turn into seconds. As I contemplate a few more minutes of snoozing, I hear David (my hubby, a recurring character in future blogs, so remember him) up and about, which means, now I HAVE to start the day. I like making him breakfast, yes, we're still in the newly wed stage, anyways, moving on. The man is fed and off for golf and I head for my weekly cardio workout - Grocery shopping.
I walk up and down every aisle, the therapeutic sounds of the un-oiled wheels on the cart lulling me into my Zen zone. Wait what??!! A discount on both Evaporated AND Condensed milk? Coupled with the fact that someone mentioned Salsa dancing like a month ago? It was a definite sign, I HAD to make a Tres Leches Cake. (Listen, that's how my brain works, go with it.)
I come home, settle into my sun spot and start looking for recipes, my criteria is simple, greater than 4.8 stars and more than 50 reviews. The criteria *might* change depending on the alignment of the moon, but that's usually it. We have a winner, from Natasha's Kitchen, DAYUM, 5 stars from more than 500 reviews! I have a good feeling about this, time to get to it.
There is controlled chaos in my approach to cooking, or so I like to think. I start getting out the ingredients, get distracted by TikTok for a few minutes (OK fine, 30 min), play my song list, dance to my non-existent audience and then the true fun begins.
The recipe is easy to follow and I breeze through the steps. Till it comes to the separation of the eggs, Step 2 of the instructions, SMH. As you can see in the image below, egg yolks looking yolky and egg whites looking whitey, but what you CANNOT see is the faint strains of yolk threads (not visible to the human eye) running through the whites, where is a pipette when you need it?
As I move along and get to the part of beating the egg whites, I recall a certain Chemistry lecture where the teacher proceeded to explain what caused protein to denature. She had used the example of beating eggs and then proceeded to pass along the sweetened egg whites to every student in the hall to taste. Yup, communal eating at its best, probably a scenario we would NEVER encounter in the present. But hey, kudos for a lesson so well taught!
Alright, cake's done and in the oven. I turn around to face the sink and a few choice curse words escape from my lips. How did it pile up so fast? I want to continue with the recipe, but this voice in my head, this ANNOYING voice in my head, "You want to deal with dried hardened cream, be my guest", ugh, FINE, I'll do the dishes before proceeding. Of course stacking the dishes to dry is like playing a combined game of Tetris and Jenga. The slightest movement in the air current could make the whole thing collapse.
Talk about timing, dishes done and the timer goes off, cake is done as well. People talk about self restraint, and I understand that to a certain extent . Only the thought of possibly burning my mouth and hands prevents me from digging into the cake with my bare hands. The aroma wafting around the kitchen is so tantalizing, like walking by a sale, a Kate Spade sale, the new bags, the smell of leather... wait, FOCUS!
I'm a firm believer of quality control, that trinity concoction of evaporated milk, condensed milk and whipping cream HAS to be taste tested. Suffice to say, I over-tested and had to whip up another batch. Poking holes in the cake, drizzling the second batch of milk heaven, seeing it seep through the holes and knowing it was going to be a moist bite, it just makes the effort all worthwhile. Not to mention, tipping the scales with a home-made whipped cream topping, sign me up!
I decided to create a heart using raspberries and blueberries I had on hand, for all the people I love... Well, actually no, it was the easiest design I could do without messing it up. The finished product looked pretty amazing and David can attest that it was yum yum in the tum tum. This was a keeper for sure!