...how the bug bit me...

My love affair with the kitchen began forever ago, while I was just a kid attending P.S. 84 in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. I enjoyed watching my mother cook and enjoyed the smells and tastes even more...and who wouldn't?! My Mom is a Jew who happened to have a true knack for Puerto Rican cooking (only in Brooklyn, right?). But I was a kid and, like most other normal kids I had an extreme sweet tooth. So, it made perfect sense that when it was my 4th grade teachers' (Mrs. Sholinsky) birthday I wanted to come through with a homemade birthday cake for her.
So, with some saved earnings in hand off to King Charles' Supermarket for some decorative candies, lovely boxed chocolate cake mix and a can of matching frosting (Duncan Hines, I think). I rushed home and read and re-read the instructions to make sure I could get it right. I preheated my oven, buttered my pans and mixed my cake mix the best way my scrawny arms could with a hand-held beater you crank, or turn (reminiscent of a toy jack-in-the-box)and turn, and turn...WHEW....got tired just thinking about it!
ANYWAY, I sat in the kitchen watching the clock, all the while sucking in the aroma of that chocolatey goodness. When the moment of truth arrived I jumped up, grabbed my potholders that I am sure I made in Summer Day Camp and carefully removed my cakes from the oven and placed them on our kitchen table to cool. I carefully scrutinized and tested these two nine-inch miracles to ensure the perfection matched that of a wonderfully deserving and perfect teacher:
1. Toothpick test: passed and perfect.
2. Lightly pressed the cakes for that bounce-back: passed and perfect
3. Evenness: again, PERFECT!!
My happiness turned to giddyness. I could not wait for these guys to cool so I could lovingly blanket them with the rich, chocolate frosting they needed partnered with those awesome candies playing their part as "icing on the cake". Haha! Wait...the giddyness turned into a moment of confusion and ugh, a flow of feelings from shock, disgust, dread and finally unbelieveable sadness. A closer look at one of the cakes revealed an object on the surface, just slightly off the center...oh, nooo....a cockroach had been in the oven and had apparently plunged into the batter to his tomb and final resting place. I stared and stared at this insect, now a "fossil" on my teachers' birthday cake that was supposed to make its' triumphant appearance at school the next morning.
I remember thinking and even uttered to myself, "what in the world am I going to do NOW!?!?!"