A slab of old-fashioned gingerbread

I was on a rampage for something sweet recently. I purposely keep my house snack-free. I also don’t drink milk or eat whole eggs, so baking is often out of the question. However, I did have eggs for once, and I had a hankering for something dark and spicy and flavorful, as opposed to some yellow cake mix I microwaved. (Yes, I’ve done that in my desperate moments).

Without a mix, I endeavored to undertake a rare project – something from scratch. I looked for spice cakes on allrecipes.com and uncovered this gingerbread recipe. It is gingerbread in the form of an actual cake as opposed to the flat cookie we are more used to. I made a lot of substitutions to the original recipe because I can’t follow baking directions to save my life. I added allspice, cardamom, and nutmeg, and I switched half the hot water for rum. I also decided I wanted even more molasses, so I changed the white sugar to brown sugar. The modified recipe is below.

The flavor of this cake is spicy and complex with a hint of bitterness. It’s like drinking a stout beer in that respect. It’s certainly sweet enough to still be called cake, as opposed to bread, but I’m not sure if children would favor the more subtle sweetness.

Fresh out of the oven

Originally from allrecipes.com, with modifications:

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup brown sugar
• 1/2 cup butter
• 1 egg
• 1 cup molasses
• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1 teaspoon allspice
• 1 teaspoon cardamom
• 1/2 teaspoon of nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup hot water
• 1/2 cup warm rum*

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour a 9 inch square pan.
2. In a large bowl, cream together the sugar and butter. Beat in the egg, and mix in the molasses.
3. In a bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, allspice, nutmeg, and cloves. Blend into the creamed mixture. Stir in the water and the rum. Pour into the prepared pan.
4. Bake 1 hour in the preheated oven, until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow to cool in pan before serving

*You will taste the rum. It gave the gingerbread a warm, tingly characteristic straight out of the oven but faded the next day.

So, some hijinks ensued, of coures. My brown sugar was dried out and lumpy, so I added some water and microwaved it. The hot, runny sugar mixed really well with the butter, but later, when I added the rum and hot water, I realized I should have scaled back the hot water to make up for the extra water in the sugar. I realized that too late, so I threw in some flour to fix it. It still turned out fine, amazingly!

Golden crumb

Look at that beautiful texture. The cake was quite moist but heavy. The flavor profile is complex, and a single slab is heavy because it is such a tall cake.

Glistening crust

And that shiny, caramelized crust. Mmm. Oh, it crackled and was simply delicious.

Lou added a green bow

It’s a little boring to photograph, though, so while I was looking for ideas, my significant other, Louis, snuck in and added a gift bow to this slice. I thought it was amusing and slightly Christmas-y.

Gingerbread with a pecan

You can see that it had nice, crisp edges as well. I added a pecan just for this shot, but I do think that nuts would be a good addition to this gingerbread. The crunch would provide some textural contrast, and if they were roasted or sugar-drizzled nuts, the sweetness would be provide a foil for the rich and dark flavor of the gingerbread.

Raspberry Danish from Extraordinary Desserts

Of the three things I got from Extraordinary Desserts in October – the Chocolate Pecan Tart, the Chocolate Streusel Cake, and the Raspberry Danish -, the danish was by far the best. I admitted in an earlier post that I preferred fruit, and sweetness, and melting textures to chocolate, and pastry, and crunch. Well, this danish hit all the right spots. It was also the cheapest, at just $3.50, compared to the approximately $10 cost of the other items.

Karen calls it a danish but it seems more like a fruit pastry to me. Its crust is layered with pastry dough, topped with a wonderfully tart raspberry puree, some perfect vanilla glaze, and some berries for fun.

A daisy on a danish

This was one of the cases where the flower placed on top was truly appreciated. It looks so beautiful there. With the other items, the red and yellow roses against the dark brown hue of chocolate seemed a little off to me, but a red and white pastry topped with white flowers and red berries was truly striking and harmonious.

Mm, raspberries

The raspberry puree had soaked into the pastry dough, softening it with delightful berry flavor. That glaze was just a masterful touch as well. It’s such a simple thing, but it was a great, sticky, sweet contrast to the bright and seedy flavor of the puree. It was just wonderful.

A little gooey raspberry shot for you

You can see the gold foil here, but I honestly did not care in this case because this was so delicious. It was the perfect combination of sweet, tart, soft, comforting, and beautiful. It was so uncomplicated compared to the busy chocolate pecan tart and so light next to the chocolate streusel.

When I planned my trip to La Jolla and San Diego in October, I started by researching things to do (the zoo!), places to eat, and then houses, flights, and cars. I like to make sure I have at least one great dinner when I’m on a vacation, and, because I run this site, I also like to make sure my list includes at least one good bakery. I was in luck because a quick perusal of Trip Advisor showed an eatery called Extraordinary Desserts on the first page for San Diego restaurants. Sold! Say no more. When I asked for recommendations on Good Taste Photography’s Facebook page, Extraordinary Desserts came up again in several comments, so it was 100% certain I’d have to set foot in this establishment.

On Saturday evening, I went to the location by Balboa Park because I had just spent my day there. We planned to get dessert, keep it in the car, then go to the Gaslamp district to get dinner. I found parking right outside the restaurant and was surprised to see a great many tables outside and in, lit with candles and possessed of a bistro-like ambiance. I had expected a bakery or cupcake atmosphere with limited seating and a lot of take-out, but Extraordinary Desserts was in fact a cafe that only sold dessert.

They had waiters. Wow.

We stepped in line, which was already edging out the door despite it being pre-dinner at 6 PM or so. I knew what I was getting into, but the man in front of me did not. He stepped back into line with his female companion after perusing the selection ahead and said, “$10 for a creme brulee? No way.”

She just looked at him. It was The Look. This particular one was particularly withering to the male species, because, in that moment, what I felt radiating from her was an aura of “So you’re cheap?”. She said nothing, and he tried again, realizing his mistake. “The line is really long, and I don’t like anything here.”

Another moment passed. She finally said, “So you want to leave?”

“Yeah, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Fine.” Mama wasn’t happy.

$10 for a dessert is a lot. They were all pricy, except for my favorite one – the raspberry tart, which was only $3.50. However, if you’re already there, and you’re surrounded by people eager to eat these $10 items.. I don’t know. I’d stay. (That said, I was in Delicious Orchards recently, and I found some sea salt caramels, which I am always on the lookout for. I was positively going to buy them until I flipped over the box and saw it was $12 for 5-6 caramels. For sugar, cream, and salt! I can understand the man’s outrage.)

But back to Extraordinary Desserts, they left, and we stayed, passing by a display of teas and coffee until we were firmly in Dessert Land. There were about 10 desserts in the case with another refrigerated case under the cash register filled with cakes and parfaits. I picked 3 things somewhat at random: the chocolate pecan tart, because I don’t see that very often, the chocolate streusel cake, because it looked good and Lou likes denser cakes, and the raspberry danish, because chocolate never photographs well. (Yes, I’m always thinking of that.)

Chocolate pecan tart from Extraordinary Desserts

Disclaimer: the lighting in my La Jolla home was not very good. It consisted almost entirely of track lights on dimmers. There were no lamps. The house was a 1930 historic building, so I think its age, plus the fact California should be sunny all the time, made them scale back on such things. As a result, it was extremely challenging to photo anything in this house without flash. I lit candles, I turned lights on, I used my fastest lens, but I was still deeply unsatisfied with the photos.

However, the use of candles led me to this photo, which is very traditionally styled in a way I would normally never do. A glass table, a wine glass, a candle. It was like a Valentine’s Day shoot!

Chocolate pecan tart

Onto the tart. It was the size of a cd and two inches tall, so it was definitely meant to be shared. It was dense, too, packed with nuts and goo. You can see the lattice-work of the crust on top, with pecans peaking out. It was like a pie on the top but a cake on the bottom. The crust was hard, dense like a brownie, and almost like a chocolate-chocolate cookie in taste and texture.

Pecan tart topped with flowers, chocolate, pecans, and gold-leaf

Every single item that Karen sells in Extraordinary Desserts has fresh flowers and gold leaf on it, as far as I could tell. These were rose petals, set in a dollop of chocolate ganache, topped with a toasted pecan that had edible gold leaf laid on it. Rose petals are edible but I just didn’t feel like it. I did  eat some of that pecan but I’m not wild about eating gold, either.

Honestly, I am just not a fan of this look, period. It just seems needlessly gauche, and the application seems sloppy. It screams of a checklist in the back that says. “1. Add chocolate. 2. Add flowers. 3. Apply gold leaf.” They’re just adding the requisite items, not thinking of whether it makes sense or pleases the eye. If half the pecan, vertically or horizontally, was covered in gold foil, or there seemed to be some sort of rhyme or reason to its appearance, I’d be down with it. As it is, this just looks a little pretentious.

Slice of the tart

But how did it taste? Golly, it is it dense. You can see the nutty texture in this photo – chocolate and broken nuts mixed with the gooey mixture of brown sugar, molasses, and bourbon that makes up the base of a pecan pie. It was too much for me, personally. Two bites, and I was so overwhelmed with the richness that I was done. That’s probably great for my diet but a little disappointing for my palate, because I’d like to linger over a dessert, enjoying it for several minutes. If you love pecan pie, and you love chocolate, and you think pie+cake sounds amazing, go for this.

Well, Halloween has passed, and we’re just three weeks from Thanksgiving. I feel like autumn is slipping away. Halloween is one of my favorite times of year, though, so here’s a slightly belated post on my favorite scary cupcakes.

They’re my favorite… and also the only ones I have pictures of. My significant other and I used to have a birthday tradition of cupcakes. We also spent a good part of our adult lives together in Hoboken, where he worked just down the street from Carlos’ Bakery, of Cake Boss fame. I walked by that place for years on my way to the Barnes and Noble (gone), CVS, and the Path train. Of course, I begged a cupcake off him on his way home from work for any special occasion I could justify. His birthday is October 30th, so I would promise him an NYC cupcake in return for a Carlos’ Halloween treat.

That is, until the show Cake Boss came about. These photos are from 2008 because that was the last time we could actually get in to the bakery to buy something without standing in a ridiculously humongous line. Believe me, we tried. I have photos of the line.. but no photos of the cupcakes. It’s a bummer. No more will I stand on the corner of Washington and Newark and smash a cupcake into my face. (Don’t ask.)

Of course, these photos being from 2008 also has another implication. This was just 5 months after I got my SLR camera, and I had no macro lenses. These photos were shot with the kit lens, a really slow 18-55mm, before I knew anything about proper lighting and styling.

Halloween cupcakes

So, in 2008, I traded Lou a Whole Foods spider cupcake for a Carlos’s ghost cupcake. I love this photo because the ghost looks very worried. I think he thinks the spider is going to eat him, despite how positively friendly the spider looks. The spider reminds me of a puppy with his googly eyes.

Ghost cupcake from Carlos's Bakery

It was a red velvet cupcake with a fluffy white icing. I can’t remember how it tasted, but I always liked Carlos’ cupcakes. The cake was moist, the icing was supple. Nothing mindblowing, but solidly good.

A triptych of anxiety. Look, he has a lot on his mind. I mean, he’s dead, and he’s a cupcake.

Spider cupcake

And the spider. Well, he was adorable. Many a time had I admired the Whole Foods cupcakes from their glass case. They’re gorgeous, whether they have seasonal designs or flowers. I’ve had beautiful Whole Foods birthday cakes at work covered with vivid icing blossoms and leaves, and they were tasty, too. However, this cupcake.. well.. I think the Whole Foods icing takes color and shape so well because it is essentially lard. It is pure grease with no flavor at all, like what you find atop those tiny cakes at a Chinese Buffet.

You would suspect that the disk on top of the spider was a cookie of some sort, but no, it was just another lump of icing-lard dusted with cocoa. It was disgusting to bite into it. Truly. What about the cake? Well, it tasted like cornbread. Dry. Corny. This was an absolutely terrible cupcake. I’ve been turned off  WF cupcakes for life.

I saw this photo on Serious Eats of a pistachio danish at Grandaisy Bakery and decided I just had to go there. Luckily, there was a location just 10 blocks from a place I used to work, so, with my friend Allison in tow, I trekked up to 72nd street. They sell a variety of baked goods, paninis, and unusual ‘pizza’. It’s rectangular and features flavors like sweet potato, onion and potato, artichoke, fennel, and celery root. The bakery is in a tiny alcove next to a large Gray’s Papaya, though, and I admit I was tempted to get a hot dog for lunch instead.

However, I steeled my will and got a Greek panini, a pistachio danish, a carrot cake hunk, a lumaca cookie, and a raspberry cookie.

Here it is. It has a tart-like, rustic crust, with pistachios on a bed of cheese.

Pistachio danish at Grandaisy Bakery

Lumacas are not photogenic at all so I put them atop the raspberry cookie. Lumaca roughly means snail, and you can see how the cookie curves in on itself like a shell. They’re pastry-like, but crunchy, with currants, nuts, and some apricot preserves folded in. The apricot gives it some unexpected bursts of sweetness, but I just didn’t feel this cookie. It was crunchy and covered in sugar, so it was messy, and the fruit and nuts really got lost. I don’t remember it tasting like much.

Lumaca on a raspberry cookie

I love the light in this photo. Everything looks so clean and bright and breezy.

Lumaca on a raspberry cookie

The raspberry cookie was a flower pressed atop chunky raspberry preserves, all within a small round cookie. The jam was a wonderful, jewel-like crimson, and you could see large raspberry fragments in it for additional texture, so it was really quite lovely. Unfortunately, it was a shortbread cookie, and it broke in the bag before I could take a picture of it. I think, broken spoke aside, this photo still gets the essence of this treat across. How did it taste? The raspberry filling was just perfect. It was tart and flavorful. You were unmistakably eating smashed up raspberries, and there wasn’t a lot of sugar or other additives to confuse the experience.

Raspberry tart cookie

Onto the carrot cake. I realize this photo is uninspired, but I found it difficult to take a compelling shot of what is essentially a small cupcake-shaped carrot cake. Take a look at the drink lid beneath the cake, to get an idea of the size. It was about 2 inches high, before icing, and 3 inches wide. The size works with a cupcake, but carrot cake is so dense and rich that it felt overly indulgent here. That said, it was still very good. The cake was incredibly moist and nicely spiced. The icing was good – bright and a little tart. I am glad they held back with it, because I could see the impulse to add an inch of frosting to this bad boy to even out its proportions.

Verdict? This is very tasty if you like carrot cake, but get it after dinner on a Saturday. This is not a donut you can just absorb into your day — it’s a full-on dessert.

Carrot cake

Now that I got all the other items out of the way, I’ll return to the danish, my sole reason for visiting Grandaisy Bakery. While it is obviously topped with pistachios, there was a fruity taste as well that I believe was more apricot preserves sprinkled here and there. The folded crust is really quite lovely, and the texture was spot on.

Pistachio view

As you can see, it was golden on the outside, but tender on the inside. I hate dry pastry crust that snaps into a mess of crumbs as soon as you bite into it, which was my problem with the lumaca cookie, and, luckily, that didn’t happen here. I should also note that this danish is about 4 inches across, and pretty deep, so you get a lot of filling and, overall, a lot of danish.

Side view

But how did it taste? Well, the interior looks to be farmer’s cheese rather than cream cheese. I discussed the origins of farmer’s cheese in my previous post on pierogies, but the important part to note here is that a cream cheese-based filling will be a little tart, but a farmer’s cheese filling will be nutty. This paired well with the pistachios and got punched up by the occasionally apricot chunk. It was well-balanced but ultimately, nothing to write home about. (Is that what I am doing right now? Oops!) Overall, I wasn’t struck by the desire to keep eating it.

Inside of a pistachio danish

Of all the things we ate, I’d choose the raspberry cookie as my favorite. I mentioned we also had a panini and some pizza. My panini was a little peculiar before you think of them as grilled and pressed, usually, but these were just sandwiches. The flavor I selected was good – chickpeas, hummus, greens, onions, and carrots.

Or was it?

When I looked this sandwich up on Grandaisy’s site, I found out the ingredients were actually skordalia, chickpeas, onions, carrots, and rocket. Skordalia? Rocket? Rocket is the British term for arugula, so that makes sense. I have never heard of skordalia before, though. It turns out is a Greek dip and condiment that is made of potatoes, garlic, and walnuts, all pureed together. It looked like hummus, but a little whiter, and I do recall it being quite garlicky. I’d definitely try skordalia again, both to eat and just for an excuse to say the word.

The pizza was good for what it was, which was thinly-sliced potato and onion layered on a thin crust pizza sheet. It wasn’t really pizza, and, if it had been hotter, I think it’d be better. I’d order a pie of it in a restaurant, but I wouldn’t stop by Grandaisy for it. It reminded me a little of pissaladiere, a French dish that layers caramelized onions on pizza crust, then adds anchovies and olives.

As I mentioned in the last post, I magically* came across a red velvet cake recently. I had a lot of good pictures of the exterior, but I also had several nice shots of a single slice of the cake that I also wanted to share – hence this part 2.

*I bought it at Shoprite

This photo reminds me of Christmas because of its red tones. Red velvet always seems to come out for Christmas in hats and santa outfits, so it makes sense. I’m not wild about the dark shadow on the right side of the slice, but I kept the shot because I like that it has an interesting background for once — the rest of the cake.

Red velvet cake

And here we go, straight into velvety goodness. That’s a good half-inch of icing per inch of cake. Mmm. The cake looks good, too – crumbly but somehow moist.

Slice of red velvet cake

This picture inexplicably makes me think of an animal lying on its side.

Red velvet cake

The only thing I regret about red velvet cake is how odd and almost bloody it looks when the red crumbs smear into the white icing after you cut it.

Top view

Ah, look at that beautiful layer of crumbs on the side. I love it. It’s a great presentation style for this kind of cake.

Side view

I am not so fond of this picture for some reason, but felt I was lacking a shot of the cake itself post-cutting. It is here for completeness’s sakes, but I think the cake itself is too messy to make this a good shot. The angles are erratic, and the crumbs have smeared into the frosting.

Red velvet cake interior

I really wanted to photograph cake or cupcakes recently. It felt like it had been too long. In the past few weeks, I had been taking pictures of odder desserts, and they’re quite challenging. Making tiny marzipan fruit look good when they’re just spraypainted pieces of almond paste is a chore. But cake – cake practically poses for you in the photo. Everyone loves cake!

That’s how I found myself with this red velvet cake. I somehow went my entire childhood without seeing or eating one. Once I became acquainted with them, I assumed it was just a cake with red food coloring and cream cheese frosting -  what you ordered  if you didn’t like the spicy base of a carrot cake.

Red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting

Not so. The key ingredients are buttermilk, cocoa, and vinegar. Yes, this qualifies as a chocolate cake. In the old days, when the buttermilk and/or vinegar reacted with the cocoa, it turned it from brown to a reddish hue. Bakers decided to run with it and add food coloring to get the crimson shade we know now.

Side view

Ah, frosting. This particular cake had a cheese cake frosting with a tang to it. It was tarter than what I associate with cream cheese frostings, so either they pulled back on the sugar to keep things interesting, or they added buttermilk to the frosting as well. I can’t find a recipe for a buttermilk/cream  cheese frosting, so that seems unlikely. It was delicious, but I don’t remember tasting the cake at all – certainly no chocolate flavor.

Icing stars.. flowers.. flourishes.. what are they called?

I not only ate one of these flourishes off my slice, I scraped another off the cake just to eat it. It was extremely rich so I was a little overwhelmed, but there’s just a certain amount of glee involved in doing that that transcends the actual frosting flavor.

Icing flourish

I assume they named it red velvet because the interior, with its buttermilk-based crumb, looks a little like that plushy fabric. I think dusting the outside with the red crumbs makes that even effect even more pronounced. In the photo below, the crumb looks like the remnants of fabric that come off unhemmed velvet. I find myself wondering, too, how they got the crumbs on the side. Did they roll the cake in them…? Throw them on? Both ways seem messy and inconsistent.

The crumbs do look like velvet

Oh, by the way, this lovely cake came from a supermarket. Surprised? Here are some recipes if you’d like to make your own.

Joy of Baking’s Tested Red Velvet Cake Recipe

Epicurious’s Red Velvet Cupcakes

Bakerella’s Red Velvet Cake

One more icing flourish for the road after you click More.

Keep reading »

I spent a weekend in Ogunquit, Maine recently. We walked along the Marginal Way, a nice pathway that wound along the rocky shore. The erratic coastline is very picturesque, with outcroppings, benches, manicured lawns, and twisted beach trees along the way.

Ogunquit's coast

Eventually, the pathway ends at Perkins Cove, which has several shops with candy, souvenirs, and coffee. We stopped at a coffee shop called Breaking New Grounds, which serves coffee, pastries, gelato, cake(!), and cookies. I opted for a generously-sized cinnamon twist. They asked if I wanted it warmed up. It hadn’t occured to me, but.. sure!

Cinnamon twist from Breaking New Grounds

As you can see, it’s as long as the fork and quite thick.

French bread or cinnamon twist?

I took all these pictures under an awning, so it was a low-light situation. As a result, they have a blue hue, but I think that is stylistically acceptable. It gives them a peaceful aura that goes well with the concept – breakfast while watching the ocean.

Dog bone or cinnamon twist?

Torn cinnamon twist next to a fork

Eventually, I stopped taking pictures of it and tore into it. It was sad but delicious. You can see from the brown patches that it had a good amount of cinnamon flavor.

I ravaged this cinnamon twist

Here is another close up. Ahh, cinnamon filling. Oh, sparkling sugar. You brighten up my day. I got to eat this beauty while looking at the ocean on a bright, 70-degree Saturday morning. It’s a good life.

I’ve mentioned Sweet Avenue Bakeshop several times on this blog. They make wonderful vegan cupcakes. I don’t go out of my way to eat vegan, but I DO go out of my way to eat weird, and to eat good. This compels me to always try unusual things, like vegan cupcakes, and to keep eating delicious things, like these vegan cupcakes. Sweet Avenue is also right in my town and caters to my fickle tastes by having new, ridiculous flavors constantly – lavender, margarita, lemonade, etc.

I was in there in July to try a whiskey and coke cupcake and picked up a s’mores cupcake, too, in case I didn’t like it. It had marshmallow frosting, a swirl of chocolate, a chocolate-dipped graham cracker, and a marshmallow creme center. The presentation really sold it, because I honestly don’t like s’mores much (though I DO love chocolate-covered graham crackers. Who’s with me?).

Vegan s'more cupcake from Sweet Avenue Bakeshop

I love this shot’s soft lighting. It’s unusual for me. I usually go for high contrast shots with obvious specularity, like in the picture above.

Softly lit cupcake

The cupcake looks particularly dark and decadent here. I like how the graham cracker provides a backdrop for its own cupcake.

Side shot

Remember how old cartoons had someone spinning a swirling umbrella to hypnotize people? That is what this cupcake is doing. It wants you to eat it. Now, there’s a bit of a challenge here. How do you eat it? Graham cracker first? Icing first? Icing with graham cracker, or graham cracker separate? Do you try to eat some of the cupcake with the icing? The graham cracker basically adds another dimension to the age old question of whether you lick the icing off, THEN eat the cupcake, or eat both at once.

Hypnotizing cupcake

This doesn’t look terribly delicious, but I enjoy the colors and shapes. The background has contrasting angular lines, but the foreground is full of curves. There’s only three colors: black, white, and brown. It  has a  modern aura.

Inevitable close up

The cupcake was delicious, of course. The icing is always thick and pillowy at Sweet Avenue. It wasn’t my favorite type of graham cracker, but that’s fine – I was there for the cupcake. Who doesn’t love cupcakes filled with even more frosting, too? This shot reminds me of the good things in life.

Gooey marshmallow filling

I went to a barbecue on Labor Day, as I imagine most people did. It was a backyard affair, but a considerable one with 20-30 kids and adults running about. Naturally, we had a lot of food; one of my shots of the grill had 20 hotdogs and 10 burgers on it, and that was just round one. The meat was further complemented with sides, salad, and ziti. This bounty continued to our dessert table, which included three pies, a fruit salad, ganache cups (mine!), a carrot cake, and a butterfly cake.

The butterfly cake was specially chosen by my mother because my late grandmother loved butterflies. She likes to include reminders of her in our celebrations, even though several years have passed. Everyone was so excited to see it unboxed. The adults called me over to take pictures of it because the children were in fact circling hungrily and impatiently. When we cut into it, we found a.. pudding cake. Instead of fruit or mousse, the cake was filled with vanilla pudding. I was really surprised – I cannot remember the last time I ate one of those. It makes sense as a party choice, though, because vanilla pudding as probably as inoffensive as it gets. It was a little boring and bland, but if one wanted flavor, the carrot cake was a-waiting.

From a photographic perspective, a red table cloth would not have been my first choice as a backdrop here because I prefer neutral tones, but it works with the yellow, green, and gold colors of the cake. I actually really like the gold airbrushing on the sides. It’s a little random — who makes gold cakes? who serves them? – but it’s a nice backdrop to the other, simpler hues.

Butterfly and ladybug cake

First things first: no, the butterfly was not edible. It is sitting in a bed of chocolate crunchies, the likes of which you find in Carvel ice-cream cakes, which were meant to be soil. The strange, plastic-like pieces strewn on the icing are so-called magic sprinkles. They are basically transparent glitter flakes, meant to add shine to your dessert, but I don’t think they were necessary here.

Butterfly in the background

The ladybugs were ‘edible’. They were hard sugar-candy (gum paste), like the flowers you find on a wedding cake, so you could eat them, but it’d be like chewing on a jawbreaker.

Ladybug closeup

I selected this side shot because I think it, along with the above ladybug picture, highlights the sheer height and texture of this buttercream icing. It was dramatically fluted, rippled, and layered on the cake in a way you rarely see; most birthday cakes stick with classic swirls, and most wedding cakes use fondant for these details.

Leaf detail

I just like this photograph. It doesn’t necessarily convey any new information about this cake, but the swirls of the yellow icing, the contrast of the green leaves, and the fading gold of the undercoat simply please my eye.

Icing leaves