Picture this… it’s the night before your husband’s birthday and you’re so excited to bake him his favorite dessert; Boston Cream Pie. So, you gather all of the ingredients, bake the cake, and make the custard. All you have to do is whip the cream with some powdered sugar and vanilla, mix it with the cooled custard, assemble the cake, and make and pour the ganache on top the next day. I considered accomplishing all of that in one night while almost 8 months pregnant, a win.
So, the next morning before work, I go to make the whipped cream. I go to get the heavy cream from the fridge and realize that I completely forgot to buy it… I KNOW… What’s a girl to do?!
I then remember that I had bought a quart of it to make something about a month prior and only used half of it and froze the rest into cubes. Aha!!! Victory… I wouldn’t have to go to the store again after all. So, I defrost the heavy cream in the fridge while I’m at work and when I got home, I whipped it with the powdered sugar and vanilla.
It seemed a bit watery, so I kept whipping. Being that I hadn’t made the cake in a year (since his last birthday) I figured that it just looked watery until I incorporated it into the custard 🤦🏻♀️( Can I blame that on “Mommy brain?”). It tasted delish, so I wasn’t too worried. Into the custard it went and then onto the beautifully finished first layer of cake. It immediately started running off of the cake. Did I stop there??? Nope… I threw it in the freezer to “firm up”🙄. Then, I topped it with the second, beautiful cake layer and even more of it squished out and ran off the sides🤭.
So, here I am. It’s Zach’s birthday, he’s almost home, I’m all dressed and ready to go to dinner in a little over ONE hour, and his birthday cake is a hot freakin mess on a plate… so, what do I do? I try to SCRAPE OFF the liquidy filling and add CORN STARCH to it and WHIP IT AGAIN… not one of my proudest baking moments😓. Remember how I said that it tasted good… well, not anymore. That ship had sailed with that ridiculous decision… again, not one of my proudest moments.
Now, Zach comes home, I’m crying and apologizing over this disaster of a cake and he’s telling me that it’s okay and we can just get dessert at the restaurant😧. Ummm…no.
What do I do? I throw the entire cake into the garbage (it hurt…a lot😭… I still cringe at the thought of tossing it out), I RUSH to the store to buy FRESH heavy cream and I COMPLETELY REMAKE THE CAKE AND ALL OF THE TIME CONSUMING FILLINGS in an hour and ten minutes🤭. That whole hour and ten minutes was truly a blur to me… To this day, I’m not sure what exactly happened in that hour and ten minutes. It is a mystery, for sure🤔.
The second, more successful Boston Cream Pie🎉🎊
When we got home from dinner, I remade the whipped cream and added it to the still slightly warm custard🤷🏻♀️, assembled the cake, and topped it with ganache. The (second) cake turned out perfect! So in turn, we had a fantastic dessert for my husband’s birthday and I learned an incredibly valuable lesson that I’ll be sure never to forget… ❄️🥛🚫