Well, I turned 27 on Monday! And though many things have changed over the years — my love of cake and bourbon have not faded, especially when they're combined, like in this cake.
Traditionally, I make my own cake every year. Which may seem a little sad, but it's a thing that I actually really love forward to. There's nothing more that I love than sharing food with people close to me, and making an elaborate, booze-fueled cake is the best way I know to do that.
For turning 24, I made my staple growing up: Bishop's chocolate pie. In honor of 25, a whiskey cake. For 26, one of my absolute favorites: peanut butter silk cake with coffee buttercream. The years just keep getting more decadent and decadent, and so do the cakes, as do the people I get to share the cakes with (who always seem to change year by year — in the best of ways!).
27 feels very adult — in a, "you don't have an excuse" anymore sort of way. But it also seems like an age that's respectably young and cool, like "you have your shit together but are still hip and can wear a crop top if you really try." I hope to not try too hard — I'm not about to dab, but I am going to try to use the word "savage" in a sentence. I can't wear lavender lipstick, but I can do mauve, and I can just about to afford the stupidly pricey one (suck on that, 22). I'm into it. Here's to a fucking classy year!