You know, when it comes to a wedding cake, the bigger it is, the more beautiful it is, most of the time. Well, back in the days of making wedding cakes as a little side business, to make some extra money, I began to love making them. Of course, you couldn't just make a wedding cake any old time, it was expensive! I was lucky and found through a teaching friend, that I could actually participate in competitions, so I did. I guess that was the beginning of my competitive spirit. Or at least, recognizing that I had one, and it was fierce!
The day that I got beat out of first place, by a pumpkin colored wedding cake, I knew that I had to find something else to compete in. This was just not the arena for me. I had produced a nice white, with mauve flowered cake. But! The leaves on my cake were considered by the judge, to not have enough color in them. The woman was insane. Now this I knew, from the horror on the onlookers faces at the competition. However the winner, the pumpkin girl, was quite satisfied and appeared as if she knew all along her cake would win. OK. I could never prove anything, nor at that time did I want to, but that was the last show I ever competed in. I had lots of cakes to do for real, and proceeded to do just that.
Friends of friends, and relatives always had somebody lined up for a cake. As a matter of fact, I had to limit myself finally, to only doing wedding cakes. I didn't have time for all the others, and I didn't enjoy them as much either. Soon after this, I also began teaching the art, and found that I enjoyed that equally as much, and I didn't have to clean up so much. Aha...the best of reasons!
All of us have funny stories to tell about our craft from time to time, and this one is probably the funniest, and yet, even more devastating than losing the competition.
I was making the cake for my brothers wedding, as well as all the other food. It was quite an undertaking, because the church was located so far away. The logistics of getting all the food there, and delivering this massive cake, had to be done in several trips, leaving me little time to actually get dressed too. Still, I managed to get dressed and begin to haul all the layers to the car. I had prepared the car ahead of time, with towels to hold the cake steady, so all I had to do was sit the heavy, yet delicate layers in their holders.
The cake had turned out quite pretty and I was proud of it, especially being it was for my youngest brother. I wanted their day to be special and everything run according to plan, including the cake, which stood alone on a table by itself. It had to have elegance and weight, to stand alone. Whenever something goes a little off schedule at a wedding, it seems that everything else follows it. So, I had planned everything out almost to the minute, even how long it would take to do my own hair. I was pleased with myself too, everything seemed to fall into place, just as I planned. Do you see it coming now? The chaotic falling apart of my plan? Yes, it all falls apart, with an unexpected turn of events.
As I ever so carefully, place the bottom layer, the largest and heaviest piece, gently into it's holder in the car, and I step back to check it's position, my whole plan falls apart and explodes in my face. My dog, had snuck around me and taken a giant bite out of the cake.
I stand there for a moment holding onto the car for support. My legs had gone weak and the dizzying explosion in my head became overpowering. I know that I should just pass out here and now, and not come to until after the wedding is over, however, I come to my senses and tell myself this was a dream and didn't actually happen, it was just the pressure beginning to catch up with me, and I was hallucinating. Of course, I smile and lean closer to see the beautiful cake sitting there in my car, with a giant bite out it! It was true. All the work, the planning and the timing, gone in an instant. There sitting underneath the car, is my dear dog, licking his lips and still enjoying the last little remnant of icing, stuck to his teeth. He's so proud, even a little smug I think.
I don't have time now to take care of the dog, oh but I want to....I really want to, as my tears have blinded me and I can't see how to get back in the door with the cake in my hands, as I am toting that heavy thing back in the house. I don't know why I'm taking it back in. What do you do with a cake that the dog has eaten a huge, giant, massive bite out of? Do you serve it to guests? What, I ask myself, do I do now, and how can I get there on time? I wondered if the other two layers would be enough, could I just leave this on the counter and somehow make a shorter cake look bigger? My brain wouldn't work, I was fried, with mascara running down my face and my hair gone completed askew, I couldn't think. I catch a glimpse of my self in the oven door, nice, I have icing in my hair, maybe I can use that to fix the cake, I think to myself.
As I stare at that icing in my hair, I get an idea....I can fix this! I jerk the mixer back out of the cupboard and begin to make more icing, a double batch. Taking my sharpest knife out of the drawer, I cut a huge chunk of that cake away, leaving no evidence of dog. Ugh! I cut away some more, just to be sure. I am alone, and no one can see my devious plan. Everyone else was already at the church and the phone was ringing, they wanted to know why I hadn't arrived yet. Holding the phone on my shoulder between my cheek, I assure them everything is fine, and I am leaving now. I hang up the phone and begin to pile icing into the cavity I had made in the cake, reminding me of stuffing a turkey, I begin to laugh, a mixture of laughter and tears runs down my face as I frantically look at the clock, and stuff faster.
Filling the decorating bag and matching all the decorations on the rest of the cake in record time, I repair the damage, quite expertly, I must say. I was satisfied with the repair and take the cake out to the car, making sure the dog was no where in sight. Running back in the house to repair me, I actually trip over the dumb dog and rip a beautiful tear in my hose, yes it was beautifully ruined, oh well, so goes my day. Well, now I am completely done. I have had it with this dog, laying at my feet and looking so apologetic. I smile. Yes, I smile at him and am suddenly completely calm. What a sweet dog to make the effort to calm me down. I pat him on the head, yes I do, and continue to the bathroom. After a few minutes I am on my way to the church. I cut the radio on it's highest volume and roll, hoping to not get a ticket.
I arrive at the church and helpers come out to help get the cake into the building. I very quietly tell the girl in charge of cutting the cake, to not cut at this particular spot, and began to tell her the tale of my dog story. She is amazed, because it all looked the same, you couldn't tell where the missing part of the cake began or left off. It was perfect and no one would know. I began to relax and enjoy myself, smiling at the outcome of the cake and taking a huge breath of relief.
My young son was in the wedding as the ring bearer. He was listening to my instructions about cutting the cake, and I realized I needed to warn him to not tell anyone anything he might have heard. He sweetly agreed and went back to the room where the men were dressing. He looked so cute in his little tux.
At the end of day, after the reception, my brother casually leaned over to me and asked which part of the cake did the dog eat? My eyes flew open and I put my hand to my mouth...how...MY SON! Yes, the sweet little boy, that had listened to my whole conversation, and agreed to not say anything, went straight to the groom and told him, the dog ate the cake!
Suffice it to say, we have had a great many laughs over this for many years, and as I prepared the cake for his daughters wedding recently, I laughed many times, as I thought of that "dog day" many years ago.
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