Holy Chocolate High Batman

My boss lady's birthday is tomorrow, so I volunteered to bake a cake. Given the direction that she enjoyed her chocolate, I picked out the most decadent cake recipe I've been meaning to try for forever. It called for creme fraiche, a french version of a sour cream. I don't know if you've been shopping for creme fraiche lately, but you can't just go to the store and pick it up. I checked out the grocery stores online yesterday and thought I had found a location where they would have the gourmet cream. It is on the far other corner of town, so I headed over there directly after work. I picked up my other necessities like the 5 1/2 sticks of butter and two pounds of bittersweet chocolate, but they did not have the creme fraiche. I stopped at another grocer on my way back home, but they didn't have it either. By this point I was tired, crabby, and way beyond hungry. I stopped for food on the way home and as my senses returned, I realized it would probably be okay to substitute sour cream for the more expensive french version. I was back on track. I mixed up the cake which all seemed to go well until the last stages when I realized I needed to transfer the gigantic recipe to a bigger bowl. The batter was thick. I scooped it into the three round pans which seemed too small because the batter came right up to the top of them. I put them on cookie trays in the oven for over flow and just went with it. However, I think because of the overflow, the cakes took about 20 minutes longer to cook than expected. By the time they were finally finished, it was about 10pm and I still had to head out to the grocery store (yes, again) for more sour cream for the frosting. In the process of flipping the cakes onto the wire cooling rack, I broke one. It was at that point that my 6-layer chocolate cake became a two layer cake. I ditched the broken cake and didn't want to chance ruining the second two by cutting them in half. I finally fell in bed for a nap around 12:30am. This morning the biggest challenge was cutting it. Those 2 pounds of chocolate, 5 1/2 sticks of butter, package and a half of cream cheese, and 9 eggs made for a super-dense cake. The coworkers seemed to enjoy it, but I'm not sure if the recipe will make it into my recipe box for further torture. I'll probably eat broken cake leftovers for the next week. I feel full just thinking about it.