Felix asked if we could provide his wedding cake--and I agreed, flattered that he apparently thinks I can do anything. Clara and I started baking the layers up to freeze. There are nine.
She went to the kitchen and produced a test cake last week.
"This looks great!" I said. "Where did you get the recipe?"
"Cupboard door," she replied.
It's our beloved gingerbread, which will be trimmed, stacked, frosted, and decked out for the celebration.