Sassafras Mama posted today about her weekend battle with cake and it brought to mind a battle I had with a cake many years ago.
For many years we belonged to a lesbian & gay neighborhood group which held monthly potlucks. Most month's our contribution was cooked at the last minute. Our contribution that month was to be a bittersweet chocolate bundt cake. (We'd clearly planned ahead because the cake takes several ingredients that we don't normally have on hand.) The cake went together smoothly and was soon in the oven. While it was cooking I mixed up the glaze for the cake.
When the cake was cool I loosened the edges and turned it out onto a plate. Or at least I tried to turn it out onto a plate. About a third of the cake stayed in the pan. Since there wasn't much time before we needed to leave for the potluck I didn't have time to wallow in sorrow, though I probably let loose with a few curse words. I quickly had to come up with an alternative contribution for the potluck. I'd been at a party where trifle was served a few weeks before this, and so that was where my mind went when presented with the broken cake.
A quick look in the freezer revealed some raspberries, and there was cream in the fridge. The raspberries were quickly defrosted, and the cream whipped. It was quite cathartic to crumble the cake into a clear bowl, where I layered it with raspberries, the chocolate glaze that was intended to coat the outside of the cake, and the whipped cream. The resulting concoction was a big hit at the potluck.
We have made "Raspberry Oops Cake" many times since, and I've never had a problem getting it out of the pan. I keep swearing that I'm going to make the cake as intended one of these days, but so far it hasn't happened. And it's still somewhat cathartic to crumble up the cake.
Unfortunately, I don't have photographic evidence to share.