Presentation. Presentation. Presentation.

My brother-in-law, Jeff, was coming to visit us for the weekend. His wife Betty had to stay behind for work, but their kids, Andy and Libby, would come with him. The north shore is such an amazing place to visit with many special things to do. Organization was required before our guests arrived. Melissa started planning where to go and what we would do during their visit, while I worked on the menu.
I called Jeff, asking about food preferences; was there anything they didn’t like. Since his birthday was just a few days away, I asked, “Do you want a pie, cake, or watermelon for your birthday?” When he was a little kid, Jeff told his mom he wanted a watermelon instead of a cake, so for a couple of years she gave him a melon with birthday candles. Jeff said he wanted a chocolate coconut bundt cake. I’d never made a bundt cake, but how hard could it be?
With the menu established we could move on to other things. One thing that must be done no matter where you live is to get the house ready for company.
Melissa vacuumed and dusted, while I cleaned the bathrooms and mopped all the floors. The kitchen is my room, so I made sure it was ready. We both pitched in to do the laundry. She made up the beds for our guests while I went grocery shopping. I made sure to get more coconut for Jeff’s cake as I was almost out. We were well prepared when our company arrived late Thursday evening. Despite the best of efforts in planning and preparing, there is always something that’s bound to change.
After Jeff and the kids brought in their bags and settled into their rooms, we all joined at the kitchen table. The topic of the cake came up again. Apparently, Melissa and her brother had a specific kind of bundt cake they wanted.
“My grandma used to make a chocolate coconut bundt cake every year for Grandpa Max,” Jeff said. "That’s what’d I like if you can make one.” I’d never even heard of such a thing, but I wasn’t afraid.
“IF? If I can make one? Do you challenge me, Good Sir,” I replied. I wasn’t about to admit that I never made a bundt cake, let alone a chocolate coconut bundt cake. I asked Melissa, “Do you have your grandmother’s recipe?” Melissa got up and walked to the other room, I thought she was retrieving a recipe card. 
Instead, My wife returned with a couple of photo albums. “There isn’t a recipe,” she said. “Grandma used a cake mix.” Then Melissa opened the photo album to a picture of her Grandpa Max sitting at the table with a birthday bundt cake. “That’s what it looks like,” she said.
Jeff chimed in, “But the coconut wasn’t just mixed in with the batter. It was more like a ring of coconut-filling inside the cake.” Melissa turned the page, showing another photo with a slice of cake that had a large round white section in the middle. “Yes! That’s it,” Jeff said, with excitement. I did a quick google search for “chocolate coconut bundt cake mix.”
The search came up with bundt cake pans from William Sonoma, Deluxe Chocolate Bundt Cake Mix from Nordic Ware, and a German Chocolate cake mix from Betty Crocker; none of which were what I was looking for.
With no recipe or cake mix, just photos, I began thinking sarcastically to myself: “Great, I’ll just add water to that picture, stir, and pour it into a prepared bundt cake pan. I’ll add some coconut, bake it for forty-five minutes at 325°, and viola, I’ll have the prefect chocolate coconut bundt cake. Of course it will still need to be frosted after cooling.” Good grief, I was obsessed. “I need to forget that cake for now.”
We sat around the around the table going through Melissa’s old photo albums; she turned back to the first page in the book. It was fun to watch Andy and Libby as they viewed pictures of their dad and Aunt Melissa as children. When I see pictures of our daughters as young girls, it seems natural, because I was there; I remember those days. But when I see photos of my own mom and dad as young kids, it becomes surreal, almost magical. I have to dream of what they were like as kids, because I wasn’t there – yet.
Andy and Libby had the same wonderous expressions as they viewed photos of their dad, aunt, grandparents and great-grandparents. Melissa turned another page, and that cake was there again. I took my iPad and went to the living room to begin searching for recipes, but all of the recipes blended the coconut flakes into the batter. That wasn’t what I needed. AH HA! At last, I found it!
I found a recipe for this illusive cake on a site called InsideBruCrew Life. I read it through a couple of times. There were a few extra steps over a normal cake, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I went through my cabinets to be sure I had all the ingredients; if not, we would be going to Grand Marias, the following morning. I could pick up anything I needed there. Shortly after, we went to bed, and it may sound crazy, but I dreamed about making this bundt cake!
 
On Friday morning we were up early and off on Highway 61, north bound. I didn’t make anything for breakfast. Instead, Melissa wanted to stop at a new bakery in Grand Marais for morning treats, and so we did.
As it turned out, Crosby’s Bakery was celebrating their first anniversary in business. They had a great selection of delicious looking pastries in the display case. Melissa ordered the Almond Croissant. I was scanning to see if by chance they had a – well, you know. I discreetly asked, “Do you happen to have a chocolate coconut bundt cake?” The lady behind the counter didn’t hear what I said and asked me to repeat it. By now, Melissa was looking directly at me, and I didn’t want her to know I was obsessed with this cake. I cleared my throat and spoke quite clearly: “I’m sorry, I asked if I could have a raspberry Danish please.”
After enjoying our delicious pastries and coffee, we visited several shops in town and waded into the cold waters of Lake Superior. Shortly after noon, we stopped at The Hungry Hippie for a taco and a cold Hamm’s Beer. I began to sing, “From the land of sky-blue waters,” and Melissa echoed in a high pitch voice ‘Waters.’ We told stories of Shasha, the Hamm’s Beer Bear who was discovered on the Gunflint Trail and watched a few vintage commercials. Next, we headed north for the High Falls on Pigeon River, the US, Canadian border.
I asked if everyone wanted to stop the Grand Portage National Monument, first, or see it on the way back from the border. Andy spoke first and said he wanted to go to the falls first. So did I and so we traveled onward.
We’ve had a lot of rain in northern Minnesota, and Ontario, Canada, too. Because of the additional rain, the High Falls were raging even more powerfully and beautifully than normal. On the viewing deck, the heavy mist coming from the waterfall made it feel as if it was raining. It was a hot, sunny day, so the mist felt cool and refreshing. The sun and mist created a full and colorful rainbow. It was as picturesque a day as anyone could hope for, especially when taking guests for their first visit to this amazing place.
On the way home, we stopped to visit the Grand Portage Nation Monument, arriving just a few minutes after five. Staff people were walking away from the secured gates. “We closed at 5:00,” one said. “We’ll be open again at 9 in the morning,” said another. We peeked in through the gaps in the fence to see the buildings inside and then spent some time on the dock before heading home. Visibility across Lake Superior was poor due to the smoke from the Canadian wildfires. On the way home, we stopped in Grand Marais, again.
While visiting the north shore, a stop at Sven and Ole’s Pizza should be a Minnesota State requirement, if not a federal law. The Uffda Zah pizza never fails to please and hit the spot perfectly before returning home. It was a very full day, and we were all glad to be home.
Saturday morning, the girls decided to head north to Ely for the Blueberry Festival. The men stayed back at the house. Jeff would be making pork chops on the grill, and I would fix the sides. This was also the day I would make the chocolate coconut bundt cake; my first bundt cake ever. I was excited and got up early to get started. I opened my iPad to the recipe.
I often make variations to recipes, but being new at this bundt cake business, I followed the directions to the letter. Soon the cake was in the oven baking for 56 minutes. I always clean up my kitchen while a pie, a cake, or whatever is in the oven. When the timer went off, I checked the cake with a toothpick. It needed a couple more minutes.
On the next test, the toothpick came out clean, so I removed the cake, and let it cool for fifteen minutes as called for in the directions. Next, I would remove the cake from the bundt pan and let it cool on the rack – but the cake didn’t want to come out. I tried every trick I knew but nothing worked with this funky shaped new pan.
I placed the cooling rack over the cake pan and gently turned it over. I tapped the sides and bottom of the pan, but when I lifted the pan the cake remained in place. I allowed the cake to cool a little longer, then tried again. As I lifted the bundt cake pan the cake was coming loose and finally dropped from the pan. Well, some of it dropped loose, other chunks, some of them being rather large, stayed in the pan. My heart sank into my stomach as I admitted, “My cake is a disaster.”
Melissa looked at the cake and asked, “What happened?” I told her I wanted to make a new cake. Trying to console me, she said, “Go ahead and frost the cake. It will be fine, and it will taste the same.” Hmfph…. What does she know about bundt cakes. (She makes a killer Chocolate Rum Bundt cake, that’s why we own the pan.) I looked at my broken cake. It was pathetic.
When Melissa and I started dating, she got me hooked on the television show Northern Exposure. In one episode, Dave, the cook at Roslyn’s Café, was chewing out someone working in the kitchen. “Presentation, presentation, presentation,” he snapped and then explained food not only has to taste good, it has to look good! My cake looked like it fell off a produce truck on a bumpy road and then got run over. Melissa reassured me, it would be fine as she and Libby headed out the door. Jeff agreed with my wife, saying the cake would be fine. I disagreed.
I began to tell Jeff a story: “As an airplane pilot, I can take off perfectly and the air can be as smooth as glass for the ride. But, If I have a bad landing, my passengers will say it was a rough flight. That cake had a bad landing. Really bad.” I pondered the situation for a few moments. I re-read the recipe to see if I could figure out where I went wrong. “It was the landing,” I determined. Even if it was the first bundt cake I ever made, and it was unacceptable. “How can I ever show my face in town again,” I sighed. I knew how to correct the situation.
I pulled out all the ingredients and the mixer. I greased and dusted the bundt cake pan again. Soon I had a new cake in the oven with the timer set. Instead of cleaning the kitchen, I spent the next 56 minutes researching techniques for removing a bundt cake from the pan. “It was a bad landing,” I repeated to myself.
When the timer went off, I tested the cake with a toothpick. It was ready to come out of the oven. I let it cool for fifteen minutes but the cake wasn’t coming loose from the pan. “Patience, Tom,” I said to myself. “I don’t have enough coconut for a third attempt. Do not crash land another cake.” I let it cool another five minutes and applied a few tricks I’d read about. Next, I placed the cooling rack over the cake pan, gently turning it over. I tapped the pan a few more times. The moment of truth was at hand. Jeff and Andy stood by, holding their breath.
I wanted to close my eyes, but I had to see what I was doing. I slowly lifted the pan which felt light, as if there was nothing in it. Finally, I lifted it the rest of the way. There on the cooling rack was a perfect chocolate coconut bundt cake! “Yes! Yes,” I boasted! “Now that’s the way to land an airplane!” The three of us high-fived one another as we danced around the kitchen.
While the cake was cooling, Jeff, Andy, and I continued our celebration by devouring a full package of footlong hot dogs, making some of them Chicago Style. I sang a song from one of Bill Cosby’s comedy records: “Dad is great! Gives us the chocolate cake!” Oh, the joy!
When the cake was cool, I prepared the chocolate ganache from the recipe. Drizzling it over the top I smiled. My cake looked just like the picture on the BruCrew website. I put the cake in the refrigerator and then Jeff and I decided to prank the women.
After dinner, I would bring out the ugly cake. We would sing Happy Birthday to Jeff. He would express his disappointment in the cake’s appearance, and in a fit of rage, Jeff would throw the cake over the railing, off the deck. We had a good laugh about that, but then I told Jeff, “I can’t waste a cake just because it isn’t pretty.”
After a feast of pork chops off the grill, homemade potato salad, applesauce and watermelon, we retired to the deck. I brought out the ugly cake with candles and we sang to Jeff. He expressed his disappointment with the cake’s appearance. I wondered for a moment if he would throw the cake, so I quickly took it away from him and went to the kitchen. I returned with the most beautiful chocolate coconut bundt cake I’d ever seen. We sang to Jeff again and this time, I served the cake with ice cream. Jeff later told me, “If the ugly cake was on a plastic plate, I was going to throw it. But, since it was on a glass plate, I decided against the prank.”
As for the poor, unfortunate first cake attempt? I sent it home with Jeff and the kids. “It wasn’t pretty,” he later told me, “But it tasted just as good!”
I smiled. Presentation, presentation, presentation.
(You can find the recipe for this amazing cake at www.insidebrucrewlife.com )