Genevieve has been eager to bake a cake for the past few days and I keep putting her off with really good reasons like, "no, I can't today, I have to do 400 loads of laundry" or "not today, we have to weed the gravel." So today I dropped the lame excuses and stalling tactics and took advantage of the endless source of eggs coming from the Lady Smith Layers down the way (not Sarah, the chickens) who are producing five a day.
The other day Genevieve witnessed the hens make their mid-day ruckus and waddle up the ramp to their laying boxes. She had all of the appropriate questions that lead up to the appropriate answer that yes, chickens lay eggs out of their butts.
I picked out my favorite pound cake recipe (okay, I only have one pound cake recipe) that calls for six eggs and G and I got cracking. As we poured the batter into the bundt pan G said, "I can't believe we're actually making a butt cake from the eggs that came out of the chickens butts. This is such a naughty butt cake."
I hope it doesn't take long to reprogram "butt" to "bundt" in her inquisitive mind. Or maybe it should be Butt Cake from here on out in the Vallee household.
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