Apple Caramel Charlotte

As I was baking on a spectacularly beautiful fall Saturday, I kept hearing Woody's words echoing in my ears: "The Apple Caramel Charlotte is the biggest pain in the ass in the entire book." Truer words were never spoken.
Although the cake ended up tasting delicious, putting it together is not the kind of thing I enjoy, and, as I have noticed to be so often the case, the projects that require a lot of fine motor coordination are not the ones at which I excel. This cake was definitely aesthetically challenged--mostly through my own errors. But I have no desire to pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again--at least not with the apple caramel charlotte. For that, once is enough.
I made the cake over the course of a few days, and Jim took about 150 pictures of the process, but I'm going to condense the steps in order not to have the world's longest blog post.
Poaching the Apples:

This was the most satisfying part of the whole process. I picked up some Zestar apples, the University of Minnesota's newest entry in the apple hybridization sweepstakes. (Seriously. They make a lot of money from those apples).
Baking the Biscuit:

I've shown the Miraculous Transformation of the Eggs photos on this blog a million times. You've just got to let your KitchenAid do its thing.

For some reason, it only took 5 minutes for this biscuit to bake to a golden brown. Maybe it was a little thinner than usual.
Cutting the Parts:

You know what they say--measure twice, cut once. It's probably even truer in cakery than in carpentry. If you mess up with the cake measuring, you have to bake a whole new cake. Easier just to grab another piece of wood.

I was feeling pretty confident that I'd measured carefully and that I had four even rectangles.

Well, they turned out not to be quite as even as I'd hoped, and the final stack was listing a bit, but I put the listing stack in the freezer. I now believed that there was a fighting chance for me to finish the cake before we went out for dinner and a play with our friends June and David. I got a little surge of energy.
Making the Bavarian Cream:

Remember the apples I poached a few days earlier? Time to get the poaching liquid out of the refrigerator, heat it up, and pour it into some caramelized sugar.

This caramel sugar syrup is added gradually to about five egg yolks. The idea is not to make scrambled eggs.

But, of course, even though you've just made this complicated egg yolk/caramelized sugar/gelatin mixture, you're not done yet. Oh no. This is a three-component Bavarian cream. Next comes the Italian meringue.

I was starting to get tired and crabby. I hadn't had time to take a shower yet, and we were closing in on the time that June and David were going to pick us up. My feet hurt, and I was snapping at my photographer. But I managed to whip the cream and whisk it into the Bavarian cream, after first whisking in the Italian meringue.
Making the Walls of the Cake:

This is where I really screwed up. I thought I was being so precise, because I measured off a 3/8-inch piece, cut it, measured another, cut it, and so forth. But after cutting a number of pieces, I noticed that I was supposed to end up with 20 slices in order to have enough to line the mold. I started making them much smaller, but still only ended up with 16 uneven slices. Just the fate I'd hoped to avoid.

Fortunately, I'd saved the scraps and slapped together some last-minute strips, but they weren't the same size and shape (as the first ones or as each other). My goals now shifted. I was no longer hoping for "magnificent." I'd be satisfied with "not butt-ugly." But I wasn't sure I was going to get there.

Filling the Cake:

Jim and I both tasted the finished Bavarian cream, and agreed that it was excellent. I still hadn't had time for a shower, but the sugar gave me a nice rush, and I was actually seeing the end in sight.
Forming the Apple "Rose":

The cake-strip debacle made me afraid to cut the apple slices too thickly or placing the slices too tightly--I didn't want to run out of apples too! I think I over-compensated because I had plenty of apples left and some naked places showing.

Still, although you might not say "Oh, nice rose shape," when looking at the cake, you would probably not burst into laughter upon being told it was supposed to look like a rose.

The glaze gave the apple slices a nice shine. I was so happy that I'd noticed I needed arrowroot (not a pantry staple) for the glaze. If I'd had to run to the grocery store late Saturday afternoon for arrowroot, I'd have shot myself. Luckily for me, I didn't have to try to find a gun.
I had just enough time for a quick shower before June and David picked us up. When they came I told them we were coming back here for dessert after the play whether they liked it or not. They agreed. I noticed that they exchanged glances that looked like they were telling each other not to cross me.
Serving the Cake

Five hours later, we returned for the promised dessert. I showed June and David the seven pages of instructions. June asked me if I'd ever make it again. "Absolutely not!" I said. "What if someone really old wanted a piece?" I allowed that I might make it for someone really old and frail if the old, frail person wanted it. Luckily for me, Jim was the oldest person in the room, and he didn't want a repeat.

TASTING PANEL:
David: "Extraordinary! I really like it when you get a little piece of cake with each bite."
June: "I really like it. I even think it's worth making it again, and you could really perfect it if you made it a second time. But I'm sorry it was a pain in the butt for you."
Jim: "I liked the flavors of the individual components, but I didn't think they blended together very well at all. I know you worked hard on it, but I think it's my least favorite of the cakes you've baked."