Newlywed life continues to be mostly the same as pre-newlywed life, except the mail has both our names on it and the towels match and occasionally Megan calls me "husband" in a tone that suggests she still can't quite believe it. "Husband, can you take out the trash?" "Husband, did you buy milk?" The word has become both a term of endearment and a way to delegate chores. I accept both uses.
The apartment is starting to feel smaller. Not physically — it's the same seven hundred square feet it's always been — but psychologically. Two married people in a small space with wedding gifts and books and brewing equipment and a smoker on the balcony and a future that is going to require more room. We've been casually looking at houses in Bay View. "Casually" means Megan has a spreadsheet of listings and I drive past them after work. We're not ready to buy. But we're ready to look. Looking is the first step toward everything.
Halloween week. Megan decorated the apartment with an enthusiasm that suggests she is either very festive or completely unable to resist Target's seasonal section. There are fake spiderwebs on the bathroom mirror. There is a skeleton named Harold who sits in the kitchen chair. I have adjusted to eating breakfast across from Harold. This is marriage.
Made a butternut squash and apple soup — roasted squash, Granny Smith apples, onion, chicken stock, a touch of curry powder. Blended smooth. It's autumn in a bowl, sweet and savory and warm. Megan ate it from a mug on the couch while watching a horror movie and petting Harold the skeleton. The tableau was both cozy and disturbing. This is my life. I love this life.
After a week of eating breakfast across from Harold the skeleton and watching Megan drape spiderwebs on every reflective surface in the apartment, it felt wrong to let Halloween pass without something properly theatrical on the dessert front. The soup was the soul of the meal — warm and autumnal and genuinely perfect — but the holiday demanded a little theater, and cake eyeballs delivered exactly the kind of unsettling whimsy that Harold himself would have appreciated.
Cake Eyeballs
Prep Time: 30 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 55 min + chilling | Servings: 24 eyeballs
Ingredients
- 1 box (15.25 oz) white or yellow cake mix, plus ingredients listed on box
- 1/2 cup white frosting (store-bought or homemade)
- 16 oz white chocolate or white candy melts
- 1 tablespoon coconut oil or vegetable shortening
- Red food coloring gel
- 24 small round chocolate-covered candies (such as M&Ms or Sixlets), for pupils
- 1 tube black decorating gel or black food coloring marker
- 1 tube red decorating gel
Instructions
- Bake the cake. Prepare cake mix according to package directions in a 9x13-inch pan. Let cool completely, at least 30 minutes.
- Crumble and mix. Crumble the cooled cake into a large bowl until no large chunks remain. Add frosting 2 tablespoons at a time, mixing with your hands until the mixture holds together when pressed. You may not need all the frosting — stop when the texture resembles moist dough.
- Roll into balls. Using a tablespoon or small cookie scoop, portion the mixture and roll into smooth, round balls about 1 inch in diameter. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet.
- Chill. Refrigerate cake balls for at least 1 hour, or freeze for 20 minutes, until firm.
- Melt the coating. Combine white chocolate and coconut oil in a microwave-safe bowl. Microwave in 30-second intervals, stirring between each, until completely smooth. Do not overheat.
- Dip the eyeballs. Using a fork or dipping tool, dip each chilled cake ball into the melted white chocolate, letting excess drip off. Return to the parchment-lined sheet. Work quickly — the coating sets fast over cold cake balls.
- Add the iris and pupil. While the coating is still slightly tacky, gently press one round candy onto the center of each ball for the pupil. If the coating has set, dab a tiny amount of melted chocolate as adhesive first.
- Draw the details. Once fully set, use the black decorating gel or food coloring marker to draw a circle around each candy to create an iris. Add a small white dot highlight with white gel or a toothpick dipped in white chocolate for realism.
- Add the bloodshot veins. Use the red decorating gel to draw thin, jagged lines radiating outward from the iris across the white of the eye. Less is more — three or four lines per eyeball looks intentional; more starts to look like a bruise.
- Set and serve. Allow finished eyeballs to rest at room temperature for 10 minutes until decoration is fully dry. Serve piled in a bowl, in a cauldron, or arranged to stare directly at dinner guests.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 185 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 140mg