You may think you have the ability to frost that cake, but really, you don’t.
You may think you have the ability to frost that cake, but really, you don’t.
S ome people have a gift for icing cakes. I thought I had such a gift, but recent events have proved otherwise. Disabused of my self-important notions, I shall now hang up my off-set spatula and stick with perfecting pie crust. Harken, dear reader, to my sorrowful tale.
Oregon (yes, this story takes place far from my natal shore), alas, is dreadfully rainy this time of year. I’d been promised stunning mountain views, loads of migratory birds, and an aerobatic flight, but thanks to a steady deluge and unavoidable plane maintenance, none of this came to fruition during my recent trip. Regardless, it was delightful traveling to a brand-new state, where sibling No. 3 now resides, and to be shown the sights (despite the rain) by his soon-to-be in-laws. My mom and I made the trek in time for my soon-to-be sister-in-law’s bridal shower, and I was asked to make a cake for the festivities.
Cue ominous music.
That first cake-decorating class — taken when I was in my early teens — should’ve warned me off, with its extreme use of powdered sugar and Crisco, and a disastrous cake collapse I had on the way to a lesson. I’m sure I drove my mother to distraction, making copious amounts of buttercream icing, which left every kitchen surface a greasy mess, but I did thoroughly enjoy the decorating experience. Over the years, I made cakes for the joint First Communion/Confirmation party I planned at my parish (with the help of my talented godmother), a few family birthday cakes, and the occasional cupcake. Then, my sister asked me to make her wedding cake last June. Blithely, I agreed, and started experimenting.
This version, which I made for the engagement party, was based on a Pinterest picture and tasted incredible. Unfortunately, it was much too unstable and wouldn’t have survived the night at the wedding reception.
Plan B was much simpler: four layers of lemon cake, filled with lemon curd and raspberry jam, iced with plain white frosting, topped with berries.
The attempt is clearly there, but the smooth, even-looking exterior that would make an icer proud? Nope. (To be fair, I was going for the “naked cake” look, but even so . . .)
Then, I was asked to make this bridal-shower cake. With some distance between me and a few mediocre cakes last July, and fresh off some other baking successes, I went confidently into this challenge. And it certainly was a challenge, because the cake needed to be gluten-free. Baking gluten-free desserts has become significantly easier in recent years, and thanks to a GF flour-blend recipe from America’s Test Kitchen, most of my GF baking has been enjoyable. Since I was flying to Oregon, and traveling with an unmarked bag of white powdered sugar seemed ill-advised, I asked the bride’s family to gather all the necessary ingredients. I’d make the cake the day before, whip up a quick frosting, throw on some fresh fruit, and presto! A cake fit for a bride-to-be.
Or maybe not.
Mistake No. 1: I didn’t practice the recipe beforehand. Even worse, I used a new-to-me recipe. Honestly, it tasted fine, but next time, I’d use a butter-based recipe, rather than an oil-based one.
Mistake No. 2: All-butter frosting is never advisable — a rule I knew, but in my desire to impress, had forgotten. A Crisco-based frosting, no matter how much it clogs your arteries, won’t melt.
Mistake No. 3: My decorating instructor warned me about this, but if you want actual white frosting, flavor it with clear vanilla extract. My regular-vanilla-flavored frosting had a decidedly ivory tint to it.
Mistake No. 4: Filling the cake with a fresh berry compote, if you don’t plan to moat that cake layer with a good wall of frosting, is dangerous. Thank goodness for wooden toothpicks.
Truly, it wasn’t horrible, and the berries on top — along with my decision to give it that same “nude cake” treatment — covered at least a few sins.
Perhaps the most entertaining part was that, while my cake occupied a (very undeserved) place of honor on a central cake stand, right next to it was a brilliantly white, six-layer raspberry champagne cake from the local bakery. The bridal shower was well attended, so many desserts were needed — and the bakery cake was not gluten-free. Needless to say, my mom and I stood at the dessert table having a good laugh between ourselves over the juxtaposition of the two cakes. I aspire to make a cake as straight, well-iced, and delicious as that bakery one — perhaps for a later column.
Did I learn my lesson? Well, I actually learned a few:
- Hoping to impress both your readers and your soon-to-be sister-in-law’s family is a tall order.
- Making three cake layers at 10 p.m. makes for a long evening.
- Don’t walk away from any hot mixture containing corn starch.
Most importantly, though: If anyone asks you to bake a special-occasion cake, just say no.