While I was baking this cake, I realized that I don’t talk about my dad much on this blog, which is odd. My parents are a huge part of my life. We live close to one another, so I see them almost daily. And my dad explains a lot about who I am.

For one thing, he taught English for 40 some-odd years. I learned to love reading from him. Every Saturday, he’d read aloud to me for about an hour, even when I was a teenager. I’ll never forget that one of my favorite books, Pride and Prejudice, was first introduced to me with my father’s voice.

Also, my dad has been an instrumental part of my kids’ lives. When my oldest was born, my parents took care of him full-time so that he wouldn’t have to be in daycare while I went to work. They took care of my other two children part-time and they still pick all three up from school every day so that I can stay at work and go to meetings. My father is gentle and loving with my children, and I strongly suspect he thinks they’re even more fun than I was at that age. But as their doting mother, I’m not jealous!

So the least my dad deserves on his birthday is his favorite cake. I didn’t even know he liked German chocolate until relatively recently, because he never told me. And then one day it just came out in the course of casual conversation. That makes sense, because my father is pretty selfless. He wouldn’t run around asking people to make specific cakes for him. I would. But I’m a picky girl.

The cake base isn’t strictly German chocolate, so sorry. I stuck with the classic Hershey cocoa recipe, which I think makes an amazing cake. It’s easy as well, using just one bowl and no butter. My mom, who protects my dad’s cholesterol, would approve.

I can’t say that the frosting is butter-free, though. Sorry! It’s easy, though. You make it on the stovetop and let it thicken. It’s pretty much foolproof. How many frostings come that easy?

Happy birthday, Daddy. I love you. And I hope the rest of you love this cake. It’s as basic and easy as they come!

Boy, did that come out rude, especially to my (very valued) readers who are not American and have no idea what this stupid Girl Scout cookie craze is about, anyway. I do apologize. And I can always suggest substitutes if you can’t get the cookies. But you have to understand something.

Girl Scout cookies are America, people. And I’m an American food blogger. If I were a French food blogger, I’d be doing a lot more with delicate pastry dough and awesome macarons.

Another American phenomenon I’m all about: the mashup. It’s where you take two things that have not previously gone together (a song, a dessert) and you combine them. Some people find them too intense, too much. I call mashups a multitasker’s dream come true. Mashups prevent difficult choices from having to be made. Instead of choosing between the cookie or the pie, have a pookie! Why pick just one?

That view, of course, is quite American. We Americans like to think we can have it all, and perhaps we can, but I have to cry foul. I think trying to have it all is the first step to failure, or at the very least, disappointment. It might be easier to have all of one or two things, and then little bits of the rest.

If you see someone who does seem to have it all, take another look. What seems like perfection from the outside is usually a mask. Unless, of course, we’re talking about fudge. Because this fudge has everything, and it’s no illusion.

For some reason, I couldn’t decide whether to use regular or white chocolate in this fudge. So what did I do? I decided to have it all. And nestled between the layers and on top of the fudge are the Samoas themselves, along with sweetened coconut.

I consider this fudge in the mashup category because, well, it’s cookies and fudge. Cookies inside of fudge is pretty much always a good idea.

For those of you who are sick of all this Girl Scout madness, I’m done. I think. I do have one more box of Tagalongs to play with. But remember, this is America. We want it all, and we want it now. The least I can do is give our Girl Scouts my baking best.

Example: when I’m not sure what to bake, the answer is magic bars, pure and simple. Because no matter how basic a magic bar is, different flavors and combinations abound. And when there are Girl Scout cookies in the world, attention must be paid.

This is my one-year blogiversary, everyone. You’d think I’d be celebrating by popping champagne and downing one of my decadent desserts, and perhaps that will happen, too. At the moment, though, I’m feeling more contemplative than celebratory.

You see, blogging is kind of hard, if you keep it up. I have a demanding full-time job as a high school teacher, and I also have three small kids. Any attention I give Just About Baked has to be stolen time. That happens early in the morning before anybody is awake, late at night after everyone is asleep, or on weekends, when the kitchen suddenly becomes a whirlwind of spilled flour and sugar.

Through this year, Just About Baked has become stronger and is shaping into something that I’m really proud of. There’s still so much I want to do, and I’m not sure when that will happen. But I’ve learned something really important in life, and it applies to my blog. Ready for this wisdom?

Forget perfect. Try good enough.

You see, I’m never going to be perfect, not in anything. I’ll never be the perfect wife, the perfect mom, the perfect teacher, the perfect person. And my blog won’t be, either. My pictures could use some improvement, I am guilty of the occasional typo, and I have left ingredients out of recipes. Sorry, folks.

Those transgressions alone are enough to shut down many a food blogger. But that’s not going to happen here. I can’t learn or grow if I quit, and unless I accept that my blog, as it stands, is good enough. I will keep working and trying, and that’s all I can do.

So on this one-year anniversary of Just About Baked, I’ve gotten pretty serious. But I also want to say thank you to all of you who read and support my blog, who write in lovely comments, and who compliment my crazy ideas, like this one. After all, why not make a Samoa more of a delight by adding it to a chocolate graham cracker crust topped with coconut, chocolate chips, Samoa pieces, and condensed milk?

See? Magic. Even magic doesn’t have to be perfect. So happy blogiversary to me, and here’s to being good enough. Let’s all raise a magic bar to that!