I don’t know why I do it to myself- I don’t even really enjoy eating cake all that much- but I feel the need to bake for people’s monumental occasions that celebrate their birth (i.e. birthdays.) Sick and sad as it seems- some folks apparently like this tradition and I may have just screwed the pooch on this one as, it seems, the birthdays keep on coming and I’m having to outdo myself time and time again. (but seriously, will it ever be better than the great Pirate Cake collaboration 2007? I think not.) In this particular instance, I made a birthday cake in the shape of a purse for Rachel’s 30th birthday from a recipe I found here.
Totally cute idea. I followed the instructions exactly (well, a minor strawberry cake mix substitution) but almost exactly. I got this late Friday night:
Now, I must interject that as I made it, Jeff was expressing his concerns from a basic construction standpoint. But I wanted to follow the directions. And for him to shut up. (Not necessarily in that order.) I should have listened to Mr. Erector-Set (tee-hee- erector) because at 6:30 AM on Saturday morning, I had this:
That is one dead birthday cake. Now, having the tendency to be a tad dramatic at times, I am surprised that I didn’t break down into hysterics- the messy, hiccup-y kind. But I did not! I simply threw on some clothes, in fact, the same clothes I was wearing a few short hours before when I had finished the damn thing, went to the Food Lion to get some more stuff and I baked a second one. And THIS time, I listened to my man. If you are going to attempt the purse cake, be forewarned this recipe is seriously flawed in how the construction of cake parts are to support themselves. On the second cake, we (meaning Jeff) have achieved a very similar shape that has a strong pyramidal foundation of strawberry/vanilla yummi-ness. (Keep in mind that this puppy needed to travel too.)
And the finished product:
I didn’t get a better completed photo because by the time it was done, I was done. But it was much improved yet much like the first. Licorice handle, melted starburst cut outs (I was going for something Louis Vuitton-ish.) She liked it, most said it tasted good - although I’m going to have to take their word for it because- ew, cake.
