When An Attempted Murder-Suicide Didn't Stop Mother's Day Coffee Cake Success

Deciding that my mother would for sure enjoy a chocolate chip coffee cake for Mother's Day, (okay, to be honest, i was unsure about what she'd enjoy but my sister knew!) I purchased all needed ingredients at the local supermarket. I also purchased a pineapple, as a stand-by dessert should my first-ever coffee cake experiment not succeed. The pineapple even touted itself as "extra-sweet," and i'm not sure how they know that, but who am i to question? After a pitcher of (delicious! fruity! just-sweet-enough) red sangria at hoboken's gem of a cuban restaurant Zafra on Saturday evening, i decided the baking would have to wait until the day-of, for best (sober) results. The next day, with all coffee cake ingredients in tow, i left to visit my mom (who would love me even if my cake sucked, score!) The recipe came from my roommate's Better Homes and Gardens cookbook. The recipe called for all of the usual suspects, a big town meeting with flour, sugar, eggs, butter, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon and vanilla with special guest speakers chocolate chips. (Ghirardellii f you know me at all) and pecans. I followed all directions- and i know precision is NOT my thing and so i was extra-cognizant of correct measurements and such.... Batter was placed into the loaf pan, save for one-cup on reserve.... Filling was sprinkled and spooned onto the first batter layer, a concoction of pecans and all things sweet (brown and white sugar, chocolate, etc). Reserved batter placed on top of filling, as directed. The recipe called for 40 minutes of baking time, and at about 20 minutes, all of the right smells were wafting through the house (full disclosure- so were smells of all-natural? ant killer to remove the onslaught of little-buggers applying for residence in my parent's kitchen). At about 26 minutes in, half of the top part of the coffee cake decided a fast death would be better than human-consumption, and it hurled itself onto the bottom of the oven. I removed the large chunks as to not burn down my house, and opted for the self-clean oven option later. All systems go again, i spread the batter back over to the vacant side and put down tin foil for any potential suicide-minded batter. It took over an hour (40 minutes does not an hour make, better homes and gardens) for the goo to turn into just brown- enough edges coffee cake. The end result was sort of ugly in an almost pretty and rustic sort of way- my wise friend larry (6 beers deep and maybe not-so wise but more buzzed) explained that nobody has to know about the perils of the cake- he told me to wait until it cooled, and cut that bad-boy into purdy little mother's day slices. Buzzed or wise, he was right! Arranged on a plate with a pile of whole pecans and chocolate chips in the middle, nobody would know about the attempted murder-suicide of the top half.... Except in my expose here, of course. Anyway, he was right. Plated, the whole thing looked just fine. My mom, she's an audible-eater- if she likes something, you'll know from the elicited and sometimes awkward (when in public!) moans. When I heard a dreamy satisfied sigh and some mumble of "good cake" I knew I had succeeded.