Betty Crocker

So yesterday was my flatmate's birthday, and we had her brother and sister-in-law over, their two kids, and her sister-in-law's sister and parents (as it was the mother's birthday as well that day). I'd met the sister-in-law and the two little kids before (a 2-year old and a 6-month old), but the rest of the crowd was new. Lovely people, although so incredibly British it was hysterical. (Lunchtime conversation at one point revolved around the use of the word "unctuous").

Also hysterical though, was that since it was my flatmate, Emily's, birthday, and I desperately wanted to eat some myself, I volunteered to make a cake.

Now of course, I made the cake the way I would make cake at home: I went to the grocery store, found a box of Betty Crocker cake mix, added eggs, oil, and water, and baked it. Had to do it in two pieces, as Emily had only one 8-inch round pan, but managed to do it successfully, and then frosted it with a tub of Betty Crocker chocolate frosting.

I did this because I love Betty Crocker cake mix, and I thought it would make the best cake. I was pleased with how it came out, which is to say incredibly, incredibly chocolate-y.

Yet, in England, pre-packaged cake mix is really quite unheard of. I had to go to a couple of stores until I found the cake mix, and there was only one variety available, but luckily it was chocolate. People just don't do pre-packaged cake mix here.

So imagine my embarassement at lunch, when everyone tucked into the cake and started complimenting me on how lovely it was, but then peppering me with questions like, "How much sugar did you use? And how much flour? Was the frosting just one of those things where you blend together whipped cream and cocoa?" Treating me as though I'd actually MADE it!!

Oh gosh, how to tell them that while I'd baked it, I'd totally cheated? So I just kept demurring and trying to change the topic, unsure of how to break it to these people that the genius baker here was Betty Crocker, not me.