Day 13: Secret Family Recipe

Battenberg Cake is Better Among Buddies

"And there we have it!"

The interns were gathered in their private lounge, which was a room the size of a studio apartment with the appropriate furnishings. They sat around a table, forks, knives, and plates in front of them. Individual conversations ceased, their gazes locking on to the platter Adam brought over.

When Adam said he made them dessert, Lizzie trusted his word. Adam was a person who strove for perfection. Whether it was studying for a test or coming in first for the Mental Decathlon, he did everything with maximum effort. Baking was no exception, she realized, as he set the white, rectangular sponge cake on the table as if it was a centerpiece.

"Oh! It looks good!" Morris shouted, leaning forward and gripping his armrests.

Gisu tilted her head, brows furrowing. "Is that frosting? It looks, uh, flat, kind of like those black and white iced cookies, and I hate those."

"It's marzipan," Adam quickly corrected. "Frosting is more noticeable, yeah, but marzipan fits fully around the cake like a strong glaze."

"Why's it shaped like a bread loaf? Cakes should be round," Sam huffed, crossing her arms.

Lizzie caught how Adam poked his tongue to his cheek. It happened in the blink of an eye. "Because that's the correct shape of a Battenberg cake. It's a unique delicacy, so of course, it'll look different."

"But it's still weird."

"Well," Norma began, speaking over Sam and taking her knife, "I'm grateful you baked this for us. Thank you, Adam. I'm sorry a couple of people here aren't as appreciative."

Gisu and Sam glared at Norma, who maintained her serviceable smile. Returning her grin, Adam chuckled and sat next to Lizzie. He held out his hands, telling everyone to dig in.

As the others snatched their knives and went to war for the thickest piece, Lizzie hung back. She rested her elbow on the table, waiting with Adam as they cut through the cake. She whistled, long and slow, when she spotted the inside of the cake. Checkered pink and yellow squares held together by what appeared to be jam provided a pleasant pop of pastel colors.

"Dude, you even stylized on the inside?" she asked, grabbing her knife when the chaos subsided.

Adam rubbed his hands together. "It's part of the recipe. It needs layers. I figured I'd only go with two colors this time since we didn't have much batter, and I doubt Hollis would send in an order for me with the budget already in the red."

Lizzie nodded as he spoke. She wasn't much of a cook unless it involved pre-made meals that only needed the oven or pasta boiling in water. Most of her dinners were microwavable when she was on her own or letting a bout of laziness win, but Adam was always striving for perfection. He sought knowledge and improvement in all areas. Naturally, baking was one of them. It was impressive, she realized, as she plated the cake. The smaller details stood out to her, from the smoothness of the marzipan to the hues that reminded her of sunshine and bubblegum.

"Man, this looks so nice that I don't want to eat it," Lizzie admitted to the sound of their friends' forks scrapping against their plates.

Pulling the platter to himself, he slid off the last slice to his dish. "I'd be offended if you didn't."

The corner of her lip raised. "Oh, yeah? Why?"

He lifted his fork, glancing at the others. She knew he was checking for their reactions. While he worked for personal growth, praise from their peers was also what he deserved. Their eyes lit up as they chewed sufficed, and he quickly turned his attention back to Lizzie.

"My mother taught me it," he said, cutting off the corner. He dug the fork into the smooth interior, observing the falling crumbs. "It was passed down to her from her grandmother. She used to live with us when I was very young, so I have a pretty vague memory of my great-grandmother by the oven taking it out with Mom's help."

He sighed, popping the piece into his mouth. Meticulously, he chewed, eyes focusing on the cake. But when he swallowed, he grinned again, evidently satisfied.

"My mom wanted to keep it in the family, but Great-Gran said to share it with friends before she passed." He gestured at her cake. "It tastes better with good company, I promise."

She found herself smiling at him. She liked to keep her emotions in check, but Adam's honesty compelled her to grin. They both had tribulations at home, paternal issues that they laughed about in their private corner. But he spared no expense for his friends, his kindness coming from his mother and her side of the family, and Lizzie gently nudged his forearm, her quiet form of appreciation.

"Well, she has the right idea," she replied, slouching a little.

She took her plate and fork, twisting the utensil between her fingers, before stabbing the cake. She hacked off a solid portion of marzipan, the sponge cake almost like an afterthought. It felt somehow cruel to tear it. Biting down would have ruined the perfectly composed squares. But her hunger won out in the end, and she crammed in the cake.

She almost dropped her fork.

Holy crap. It's mouthwatering.

It melted on her tongue, a perfect blend of apricot jam and fluffy cake. Its sweetness was incomparable, light and airy. The hints of almond flavor in the marzipan were exceptional in supplement to the jam. She couldn't help but let out a surprised hum, bending her head forward as she swallowed, and she was already reaching for another bite when Adam spoke.

"Good, right?"

"Damn good," she said through her mouthful. "My compliments to the chef and his great-gran."

Adam beamed, squaring his shoulders and basking in Lizzie's credit. As everyone chattered, showering Adam with compliments, Lizzie smiled, her lips wrapped around her fork. Dessert really did taste better with friends, and as she snuck a corner chunk off Norma's plate when she wasn't looking, she decided that sentiment was absolutely true.