French Vanilla Trifle Cake

Cooking Is My Sport

Yesterday, I turned 29.

I am now in the last year of my twenties, and it feels odd. I’m not sure how old I feel exactly, but it isn’t one year shy of 30. But regardless of how I feel, this is where I’m at. My birthday usually passes without much celebration or fanfare and I’m fine with that. There is however, one celebratory act that since I learned to cook/bake, does happen every year without fail.

I bake myself a cake.

*Could* I just buy some cake from a bakery or a store? Sure. *Could* I ask a relative or friend to bake one for me? Of course.

But see, here’s the thing: nowhere I could buy it from and nobody I could ask (with the exception of my grandma) could bake me a better cake than the one that EYE would bake. I’m not even bragging. Those are…

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