You may have heard I made a wedding cake. It happened! I would like to first acknowledge that I didn’t go at it solo. My friend Marge, who’s been featured here before, did a lot of work, and my friend Meg, who has also been featured, did slightly less but still a very important amount of work. Do I want to one day make a wedding cake by myself? Yes. But this was my first go, and it was for a life-long friend, and if it came out like shit I wanted to be able to spread the blame. I kid, I kid! I couldn’t have done it without Marge and Meg, as well as my poor mother, who wasn’t even made aware of my hare-brained scheme until it began, and was very obliging in letting me completely fuck up her kitchen for several days.
So, we went to Costco and bought like….10 lbs of flour, and a huge container of oil, and so much sugar. And we were like, this is plenty. We won’t use all this. This is insanity. Turns out, though, there is like….a shitload of oil in a wedding cake that feeds 160. Like, all the oil in the world.
Then I freehanded a bunch of snowflakes in melted white chocolate because I am an all-around badass. Then I added edible sparkles which proceeded to embed themselves into my soul. Seriously, I am still finding them. It’s really, really, really embarrassing when you are 27 years old and you show up somewhere with sparkles on your face and you are unaware of said sparkles and therefore unable to explain that THIS IS NOT ON PURPOSE.
And then, you know. We made a lot of cake and a lot of frosting and I hacked a lot of it off to create hexagon shapes and then I frosted it and we made fondant and wanted to die because fondant is the work of the devil and i hate it so much i want it to die.
And then I drove it–VERY CAREFULLY–in the back of my mom’s car, in between the ceremony and reception, to the reception hall. And I stacked it and artfully placed the snowflakes and stifled my horror when, halfway through the reception, someone bumped the table and the top snowflakes came tumbling down and broke themselves and what is left of my heart.
And then we ATE IT, and it was actually really fucking good! On account of me being totally awesome and nailing my first go at wedding cakes. And I didn’t even get drunk and make a cynical comment about the conventions of marriage and how is it logical to promise one person you’ll never stop loving them when you don’t actually know that that is true? You know? Because, sometimes you just stop. Because, life spoiler alert here people, some people turn out to be real jerks.
Not you, though, reader. You’re a keeper. I’ll make your wedding cake, too.