Monday, March 5, 2012
Oh Bakerella! Just when I thought I was out, you pull me back in. You convince me that the adorable Disney character, baby animal, and/or other precariously perched cake blob on a stick is perfectly simple to make and will come out well, perfectly. And I, being the consistent fool that I am, fall for it every single time. Be it birthday, baby shower, or this time, a bridal shower, I tell myself that your adorable cake pops are the answer. And each and every time, I somehow convince myself that it's perfectly feasible to bake a cake, mix it with frosting so it's neither too dry nor too gloopy, somehow mold aforementioned cake gloop into some identifiable shape, cover it melted chocolate, and after all that, perch it on a stick. Sounds like a fabulous Friday night!
In all fairness, I really did think Bakerella's wedding cake pops were going to be simpler than her other treats. I mean I had more surface area to work with, I had decided I wasn't putting the darn things on sticks, and well I had made her cake pops twice before. I was clearly an expert. And so, after a long week of work, I decided that instead of watching all the episodes of Downton Abbey that I'd missed, I'd make these perfectly miniature wedding cakes to bring to a friend's bridal shower.
I decided I'd make two kinds of cakes because well, these were going to be so much easier than the Mickey Mouse or flower pops were. Oh, and because I was awesome (because up until this point, I really did think myself pretty darn tootin' awesome). The first set of cakes were going to be chocolate, covered in white chocolate so that when people bit into them, they'd see the gorgeous contrast (because when I eat dessert, I always think about contrast. Don't you?). The second set of cakes were to be chocolate covered in chocolate and decorated with red accents to match the bridal shower's colors.
I even planned ahead and made little heart cake toppers the night before. You know how hard it is for me to do anything on a Thursday night? That's my Big Bang Theory watching night. And yet, I shelved my love of geek humor for one evening to mold little hearts out of sugar paste. And if that ain't geek humor right there, I'm not sure what is.
I baked the cake, mixed in the frosting, made the two cake tiers using two circular cookie cutters. I was well on my way to being done and it was only 10 p.m. I figured I'd be done by 11 p.m. and could get in a few episodes of Downton Abbey before bed. I stuck the two tiers together using a bit of melted chocolate. Truth be told, they didn't really look like tiered wedding cakes but I forged ahead because well, the great Bakerella couldn't be wrong.
11:30 p.m. Still going strong. I melted the chocolate and dipped one of the cakes in to cover it. And the top tier fell off the bottom and both layers began sinking in the quicksand of melted chocolate.
12:00 a.m. New plan. I'd leave the cakes on the cooling racks and gently pour the chocolate on top. Except well, melted chocolate is more like a hurricane rather than a gentle rain. The darn cakes looked like they'd been drowned in chocolate.
12:30 a.m. No worries. I had another plan. I was still awesome. I decided to put the cakes on sticks to help with the dipping process and then take them off the sticks for the final presentation. Except well, it's hard to balance two oddly shaped, uneven tiers on sticks. Very hard. I was beginning to feel a little less awesome.
1:00 a.m. I managed to cover the cakes in chocolate only to realize that white chocolate doesn't cover chocolate cake all that well. And by all that well, I mean not at all. And another crack appeared in my awesomeness.
Fast forward to 3:00 a.m. All of the cakes were more or less covered in chocolate (with a slight emphasis on the less). But the chocolate on the cakes wasn't drying properly and the tiny decorations were looking like an arts n' crafts project gone awry. On a scale of 1 to 10 where 10 is Barney Stinson awesome and 1 is a giant foodie face plant, I was hitting about 2 right now. Remind me why I didn't just make cupcakes, throw on some heart shaped sprinkles, and call it a day?
5:00 a.m. Done. Eyes. Burning. Feet. Hurting. Awesomeness. Nonexistent.
And so ends the tale of yet another Bakerella cakeball adventure. You'd think I'd learn my lesson after three attempts at her creations, all of which were more difficult and time consuming than they seemed at first glance. I'm not sure if the whole "these are so easy, anyone can make them" vibe is part of her charm or if I'm just particularly spazzy, but I know one thing. Come the next event in my life, I'll be back on her blog ready to embark on cakeball adventure number four. Just when I thought I was out...