Cake Wrecks

One of my favourite blogs to follow of all time is Cake Wrecks.  I mean, I can laugh out loud, HARD, reading that one.  Sometimes it’s just what the doctor ordered, particularly on a bad day at the office.  I really do wonder what these bakers are thinking sometimes.  But I guess when you aren’t doing it for family and friends, maybe the pride in workmanship starts to slide a little?  I hope that’s not the case, but I don’t know how else to explain some of these.  Even if you aren’t into baking or cake, I promise a good time looking through some of these atrocities (for lack of a better word).

The ECBF and I were at Safeway the other day picking up a couple things and we saw this one:

I had to snap a pic.  I couldn’t resist.  There’s something about a cake just can’t look away…

All of this being said… I’ve had more than a few cake wrecks of my own.  For example, why are there no photos of the Blonde’s 7th birthday?  Because it was that bad.  It was worse than bad. 

I’ll set the scene: all the Blonde wanted for his birthday cake was a shark theme.  No problem.  I made these adorable shark pops:

I made shark cookies – they turned out great too.  I think we even wrapped the gift in shark wrapping paper and had shark napkins.

But when it came time for me to do the cake, I started running into problems.  First, I did what I always do – I looked for some inspiration on google.  I decided I was going to try to create this fondant masterpiece, a shark coming out of the water, sort of cartoon-ey, with a big toothy grin.  Please keep in mind I was still, at this time, fairly new to elaborate decorating.  I baked a million pounds of pound cake.  I made a million pounds of marshmallow fondant.  I whipped up the yummiest buttercream recipe in my arsenal.  I carved and doweled and covered and smoothed.  It was 2 am.  So… by the time I got to the decorating stage of the cake (the baking, the covering, and all the prep work was done), I guess I had… you know… snapped a little.  It was late, I had a lot of coffee in my system, and I was just DONE with sharks.  And cake.   Well… I started making the teeth and sticking them in his big mouth and I guess I got into a routine doing that.  When the ECBF came into the kitchen to check on me, I guess I’d gone a little overboard…  In a shark cake the size of a shoebox, I had carefully hand-molded, created, and inserted about… 300 teeth.  The ECBF laughed so hard when he saw it that he had to sit down on the floor of the kitchen to wipe the tears off his cheeks.  Lucky for me, Mr. Toothy Shark decided to put himself out of his misery.  I guess it was the weight of the teeth overnight, because when we went down to the cold room the next day to get him, the shark had done a face plant into the cake board.  

I didn’t allow cameras or cel phones at that birthday, for fear that Mr. Toothy Shark would end up on Cake Wrecks.

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