Yes, I know you might come here to see the clothes. But when it's birthday time, let's face it: you're here to indulge your baking schadenfreude. I am never less aspirational than when I bastardise cakes. If you're new, you might want to check out the Bell's Palsy Jaundice Super Why, the volcanic Fifi, a cake interpretation of when Peppa Pig gets Leprosy, and the Thomas the Tank by way of ironic Surrealism. This time I had expertise on my side with the acquisition of this book on outlandish cakes:
But I also had dire baking skills, and our lack of functioning oven working against me. Never one to back down from a challenge, I set off on the bus on Wednesday night with a backpack of ingredients to my in-laws to use their oven. After the batter was mixed, I realised that there were not enough cake pans there (or perhaps anywhere in the whole world) to bake the requisite pieces for my cakey tour de force and I was forced to pour batter into everything with a base and sides. Be thankful they don't have any aluminum dog bowls. And then I had the realisation that I needed to bring all these cakes back to our house in a backpack, so I had to cut those 45 cakes into 45000 smaller cakes and precariously stack them into said backpack. Like cake Jenga. Fast forward a day and the assembly and decoration loomed. Once I checked out the outline template, it was clear that the final cake would be enough to feed at least 100 people, so big in fact I had to cut up a gigantic cardboard box to use as a cakeboard. Gallons of buttercream frosting covered all the Frankensteined joins between pieces, acres of sweets and candies sat atop the frosting as decoration. Be very afraid, diabetics:
Maia had her heart set on one of cakes that utilised integrated Barbies to recreate girly ecstasy, but I talked her round to the mermaid. They were rather impressed if I do say so myself.