The durian mousse cake

Mother's birthday on 30 October (when it was made) was more than two months ago when she bought an electric eggmaker and finally said goodbye to the terrible hand-to-egging. Looks like my first cake came from high school with chopsticks, electric rice. Now it looks like we were making a casserole cake! And then I said to Mom, "We'll make the cake on your birthday." Why don't you ask Mom what it tastes like? And the old man said, "The fruit cake, the most beautiful durian." Oh, my God, you're so good at eating. There's no way Mom could be the kind of person who can't walk in the street when she sees a durian. He always said he was new, especially in making cake. The new one is the "a mess" of watching the flowers a few days ago, and it's like a simple plaster, and it's a terrible thing to do. I've got to practice. I've got too many masters. I can't even show my face. And? I've been thinking straight out of my head. We don't have that drill. Don't do that china work. Think about a moose cake. It's a little decorative up there. Don't tell me we're messing with the old man. Don't say you want to do that. What are you waiting for? Our slogan is, "Be good, you can be good," and the smell of the durian cake says, "Think about how pitiful it is to make a six-inch cake." Although the cost is a little higher, this is also a real piece of guacamole cake that is probably not found in lanterns, except for homemade. Look at Mom's three recipes: breakfast: a quarter of a durian cake, plus a pack of lunch with milk: 70% of a normal meal plus a quarter of a durian cake: a quarter of a durian cake。