. . .
Our next Bake My Cake entry comes from Shannon of A Periodic Table. You all know Shannon. She practically lives here. She participates in every contest I have on this blog. Like Pumpkin Carve-Off. And Ginger. And Bake My Cake. And then she writes about it all in eloquent fashion on her blog. It’s
Shannon sent a letter with her entry. As in: a dissertation. But I think it says everything that needs to be said. Enjoy:
This cake encompasses our (blogging) life together; past, present, and future. The first cake I made for you was your birthday cake, which featured my first attempt with miniature cereal donuts. People really loved those. Also, it featured miniature vintage ballerinas, which you and I share a deep affection for.
I remember when we first met: it was sometime way early on, but I remember thinking “who IS this lovely ballerina person with a fabulous blog and photos, and why does she like me? Surely this will be a passing thing. I will not get my hopes up.” Fast forward to what’s been probably close to a year and a half, and we are dear friends (and you haven’t gotten sick of me yet, which is so great), and I couldn’t be more thrilled or honored to make your graduation cake.
Can you believe when we met you were an extremely experienced ballet teacher with no concrete designs on going to baking school? It seems like so long ago. But in a relatively short amount of time, you’ve said goodbye to teaching (the thing that you knew so well) full-time and traded that in to go into the unknown: baking school. You laughed, you cried, you cried a few more times, I cried with you and laughed a little too, and now look at you: a graduate. With honors, if I had to venture a guess. Saying it’s quite an accomplishment would be an understatement.
I am so proud of you, my friend. Like, really, really proud. Hug-attack proud. High-pitched screaming proud. SO proud. So I made you this cake, and it’s the least I can do, because you deserve so very much more.
Consider this a visual resume for your someday future bakery, which I know will be world-famous. I would love to work for you, or at the very least, visit and guest-bake every once in awhile. This is what I bring to the table:
1. Ability to do tiny, small detail work for seemingly endless amounts of time. Where others would go cross-eyed and curl into the fetal position, I emerge victorious. I can decorate small things all day long.
2. Obviously, nothing is ever weird to me. So you can tell me that we’re going to do some massive project involving fresh fruit and donuts and also sugar glass, and I’m in; I’m so in.
3. I’m crazy. I think that speaks for itself. I think that’s very beneficial to a bakery, because you can always hire good, but you can’t always hire nuts.
4. I love vintage decorations, cake, muffins, cookies, pastries of any sort, and breads. I see us as having the same aesthetic sensibilities, with different perspectives, but in a very complementary way. For instance, you’re a fancy baking school grad, and I like to take cereal and load it into cookies. So.
Maybe you will let me work for you. If that hasn’t convinced you, you should know that this cake is the momofuku birthday cake, but not: it is my first attempt at a cake mix hack, to make it easier for home bakers to make without all the work. It’s a good first attempt, but it needs work, which should demonstrate my obsessiveness er, tenaciousness. whatever.
I adore you. I know I said this, but I am so entirely proud of you, and if i was your neighbor, i would beat your door down so i could swing you about by the arms in a fit of joy at all you’ve achieved.
Am I right? The woman has a way with words. Plus, this cake is perfectly darling. Look at the wee cinnamon buns! And the cookies and doughnuts! There’s a lot of precision here – that’s my kind of baking. I imagine Shannon standing at her kitchen counter, placing each of those mini-baked goods on that cake with a pair of tweezers. Think of the time that went into creating each of those miniature confections! Some call it obsessive, I call it genius. Also, this cake looks tall. That’s the best sort of cake. Can you imagine cutting into it? Of course, you’d have to fight off that ballerina to score a piece…
This cake speaks to friendship and dreams – as delightful a combination as butter and sugar. Thanks for baking me a graduation cake, Shannon! I truly love it. And I probably wouldn’t have made it through this year without you. You’re hired.
If you love Shannon’s cake as much as I do, you can cast a vote for it on Monday, June 17th, 2013.