The Sheet Cake Buffet (or how I accidentally started a family tradition.)

My husband asked for a Texas sheet cake for his birthday.

One cake. A simple request, really.

So naturally, I made three.

In my defense, he should have known better. He has met me. He has lived with me. He knows "a cake" was never going to be where this story ended.

I wanted to blow him away. Not "oh, this is nice" blow him away. I mean walk into the kitchen, stop in his tracks, and question whether I had lost my mind a little bit… in the best possible way.

So there was a sheet cake buffet.

Round one.

May of last year.

Three sheet cakes, because one felt like a missed opportunity, and I don't do well with missed opportunities when butter and sugar are involved. I had all of the ingredients out - I might as well full throttle. Normally, a Chocolate Texas Sheet Cake is our go-to. But a Peanut Butter Sheet Cake is to die-for. Then — of course — since you are on a roll, you might as well throw in a White Almond Sheet Cake.

And that makes three!

Here is what I did not know at the time: If you feed your family a sheet cake buffet once, you can’t just make one sheet cake the next time.

You’ve raised the bar. One cake will never do. You have to make three, and thus, you have started a tradition.

And traditions, it turns out, are kind of addictive - especially when it comes to cake.

So this past July, for Joel's birthday, we did it again.

Round two.

Texas chocolate sheet cake.

Peanut butter sheet cake.

White almond sheet cake.

Made by me, in my kitchen, with the full understanding that I had done this to myself.

Honestly?

I would do it again.

Because there is something about watching your people stand around a counter, forks in hand, sampling all three — and then going back for a second piece of "just a sliver" of their favorite — that reminds you what all the effort is actually for.

It's not about cake.

(Okay. It is a little bit about cake.)

It's about the overdoing it.

It's about loving my people loudly, with frosting.

Some people write heartfelt cards. Some people plan perfect gifts. I make enough cake for a small church picnic and pretend that is a normal amount of cake for one family.

We all have our language.

And then… life came at us fast!

Not long after Joel's birthday, everything changed.

I got a job promotion and moved to Columbus. It was late August. A new city. A new campus.

New everything.

Which is why it has been quiet around here.

The last blog post was in May. The writing slowed down. Then, for a while, it just stopped.

Not because I quit.

Because I was living the kind of busy I used to write about. There is a difference. And here is the part I keep reminding myself of, in case you need it too. Before everything went quiet, all that "sometimes slowly" writing had still added up.

The novel - the slow-burn sports romance some of you have been politely pretending to be patient about - is at 50,000 words.

50,000.

Not written in big, impressive bursts.

Written in 300 words here.

15 minutes there.

In between everything else.

And it is still there, waiting for me, in our new city, in this new season.

So consider this my showing up again.

A little undone.

A lot unfiltered.

With cake.

Because if a tradition can survive a move, a new job, and a few months of chaos, I am pretty sure it was never just about the birthday. It was about the people around the counter. It was about home - and home, apparently, is portable.

Mine just requires a sheet pan.

#BarelyTolerable #TishaWrites #SheetCake #FamilyTradition

Want the recipes?

All three — Texas chocolate, peanut butter, and white almond — as a printable PDF.

Go HERE to get them for free! — https://www.tishawrites.com/store/p/sheet-cake-buffet-recipes-free

One note: the Texas chocolate is the family recipe, and the icing is already written the way I make it — one-and-a-half times the frosting. It’s so fabulous! Trust me.