This cake is the unholy, beautiful love child of mojitos and egg transmutation. The chiffon cake layers, which get their airiness from whipped egg whites, are delicately sweet and intensely lime-flavored; the mint frosting is soft and light under a crisp outer layer. The whole construction is ridiculously airy. Mojitos are made to be drunk when it is impossibly hot outside and milk makes your whole body want to explode. In that spirit, this cake is dairy free and enjoyable even when it is stupidly fucking hot outside.
In an ideal world, I made a beautiful four-layer cake the night before my roommate’s barbeque and greeted the guests with absolutely no flour on my shirt. In this world, I crushed my hand with a flat pack from Ikea and then got distracted by Parks and Rec, so I had to do all my shopping and baking that morning. If you learn one thing from me, learn this: always drink your coffee before going to the grocery store at seven in the morning.
Or, How To Make Three Kinds Of Muffins Without Doing Every Step Three Times Because Oh My God Who The Fuck Has Time
The universe likes to kick people. I like to kick the universe. The cycle goes merrily around, with lots of chest thumping and yelling about don’t tell me what to do and what do you mean that’s illegal and JUST WATCH ME.
When the cosmic pain machine turns on one of my friends, though, I turn off the yelling and turn on the oven. I can’t stop life from kicking anybody, but I can hand out baked goods (+5 to emotional resilience). This past week saw not just one, not just two, but three friends become cosmic soccer balls. And that calls for One Million Muffins. They taste like cake, they can pretend to be real food, and they make handy projectiles in case of emergency.