Circa 1985. I’ve always taken birthday wishes (and birthday cake) very seriously.
Today I am 30.
I feel like my feelings about this life event are wrong. I feel like I’m supposed to keep my age to myself. Like I’m supposed to freak out about getting older, or panic about where my life is now versus where I thought it’d be. Like I’m supposed to feel “old.” Or “mature.” Or, something.
But, frankly, I don’t feel any of these things. I feel happy and grateful and very loved. And really, really excited, like there’s an inexplicable electricity in the air. Except there is an explanation. You see, I believe in a little something called Birthday Magic.
I love birthdays, my own and others’. On my birthday, it feels like the whole world is on my side, like the universe is sending out “you’ve got this” vibes. It feels like I can do anything. There’s no rational reason for this. July 1 is a day like any other. It’s a birthday for lots of other people. Hey, every day is lots of people’s birthdays! (Am I the only one who gets irrationally excited by that thought?!)
But I’m a sucker for celebration and birthdays are celebrations of existence. EXISTENCE, GUYS! A birthday is a day to do and to be, to eat and to love, to set PRs and walk around with a smile on your face. To make a big ol’ wish, blow out some candles and eat a piece of cake.
The intro of the short story “Eleven” by Sandra Cisneros describes aging as an onion, each year a layer that is intrinsically and forever a part of who you are.
“…when you’re eleven, you’re also ten, and nine, and eight, and seven, and six, and five, and four, and three, and two, and one. And when you wake up on your eleventh birthday you expect to feel eleven, but you don’t. You open your eyes and everything’s just like yesterday, only it’s today. And you don’t feel eleven at all. You feel like you’re still ten. And you are — underneath the year that makes you eleven.
“Like some days you might say something stupid, and that’s the part of you that’s still ten. Or maybe some days you might need to sit on your mama’s lap because you’re scared, and that’s the part of you that’s five. And maybe one day when you’re all grown up maybe you will need to cry like if you’re three, and that’s okay. …
“Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one.”
Using this logic and what I like to call “Maggie Math,” that makes me 30 + 29 + 28 +27… = 465. To think, I’ve accumulated nearly five centuries of experience and I don’t look a day over 30. Magic 
It’s silly, I know, and it’s totally okay if you don’t believe. Just forgive me if you catch me dancing around with a goofy smile on my face. And know that I’ve got enough magic today to go around. Because just like cake, Birthday Magic is best shared.
***
The Cake
Adapted from Orangette.
I’ve gotten into a weird habit of making my own birthday cake. I know what I like — duh, chocolate — and luckily, others like it to. This nearly flourless torte has been on regular rotation in recent years, but don’t feel like you need to wait for a special occasion to bust this out. In all likelihood, you’ve already got all the ingredients at home already. The key is to use the best quality dark chocolate and the best quality butter (real butter) that you can find.
Ingredients:
7 ounces dark chocolate, finely chopped (I like 85%)
7 ounces unsalted butter, cut into half-inch cubes
5 large eggs
1 teaspoon coconut flour
1. Preheat oven to 375 F. Line the base of an 8-inch round pan with parchment paper, and butter the parchment.
2. Melt the chocolate and butter in a double boiled or microwave, stirring gently until combined.
3. Remove from heat, then add the eggs one at a time. Once all the eggs are well combined, add the coconut flour. Mix until smooth.
4. Pour batter into the pan and bake until the cake is set and the top is crackly, about 20-25 minutes. (Per Molly: At 20 minutes, it’s usually quite jiggly in the center. You’ll know it’s done when it jiggles only slightly, if at all.)
5. Cool for 10 minutes, then remove cake from the pan. Arrange it so the crackly side is facing up, and serve. (If you can bake it a day ahead or bear the thought of saving a slice for the second day, you’ll be greatly rewarded.)
