The Sexiest Cake Ever

Yesterday was my birthday, and The Mixmaster threw me a martini and tapas party. She did most of the cooking, making deviled eggs, feta-stuffed cherry tomatoes, and baguette pieces topped with melted brie and fig. We had home made hummus and roasted red pepper and eggplant dips, and I spiced my own olives. Family and friends brought fresh figs, cupcakes, and a variety of cheeses. It was downright decadent.
The piece de resistance of the entire evening was a "Persian Love Cake;" a gorgeous, lemon and cardamom-spiced chiffon cake with rosewater whipped cream on it that was showered with sugared rose petals and pistachios. Basically orientalism on a plate, and hopefully something that will kick start my interest in the new dissertation chapter I'm writing.
I'd made the cake the day before, and after cooling it, put it on plates and wrapped it with plastic and left it at room temperature. You can find the recipe for the cake here. I'd made a few adjustments to the Epi recipe. I increased the batter by 50%, to make a 3 layer cake. On the website, other patrons had said that the recipe made a small cake, and I had to make sure all my guests were fed. I also powdered the cardamom in my mortar and pestle, because I didn't like the idea of people biting into whole cardamom seeds. And I used slightly less rosewater, so the taste wasn't overpowering (as few of my guests don't like rosewater). You should note that even with the third layer there was too much whipped cream left over, so I'd say that whipping 2 1/4 cups double cream would be fine.
One of my sisters said that the cake "looked like a cloud," and the sugared rose petals were divine. Now that I know how to do it, I might sugar other flowers. Oh, and for those of you who are looking for organic roses for this recipe, they can be found in Toronto at Wholefoods (just don't expect the rest of the bunch to last longer than a day...). I only ended up needing one rose for the recipe.
Would I make my own birthday cake every year? Well what with all the cleaning, cooking, and then spending an hour turning into my diva self, maybe next year Betty Crocker is in order? Kidding, kidding!