An Award: Most Useful Bridesmaid

It was Wednesday. The sun was shining. The wind was cold. I was mostly alone in the house. And I woke up just in time to rouse the chickens. This is the craptastic thing about flying west when you live east. Technically you gain three hours. But technically you’re also going to bed at 3 am. If I go to bed at midnight west coast time, that’s 3 am east coast time, but I wake up at 6:30 am west coast time and my body thinks it’s 9:30 am. *head tilt* *blink*

So I got up at 6:30 after lying in bed wide awake for about a half an hour pissed off that my body clock was licking windows and waking me up at odd hours. I drank coffee, started organizing the kitchen for Cake Day and was generally in a fantastic mood (post caffeination of course, don’t get carried away). Slowly the house started to wake up and everyone was all abuzz about The Cake. Asking millions of questions, getting giddy with glee about the scientific procedure that is baking. Me? I was freaking OUT inside. For a few reasons:

1) When we went to purchase the ingredients the night before my card was declined which was REALLY scary because I had over $300 in my account for the wedding. Commence heart failure. So I got on the DIAL UP internet at the house *head desk* and after about 20 minutes finally discovered a disturbing item… The Westin. After I politely gave the front desk attendant a new asshole, I was transferred to Guest Services and when they told me it was their mistake but that it was going to be Friday before they could give me my money back… I had a veritable hissy fit. That’s two new assholes for The Westin. They did finally give me my refund and thankfully I still had a little bit of money to get me through until Friday but Holy Jeans… I was piiiiissed. <— It takes a lot to do that.)

2) Thought Balloon: “I’m not just baking a cake. I’m baking THE Cake. THE Wedding Cake for one of my best friends. I’ve baked a bajillion cakes before. And cupcakes and cookies and pies…” Why my nervous bell started to go all bong bong on me, I don’t know. But it sure did! Maybe it was the questions or the constant barrage of reminders of holding the plenipotentiary responsibility of the single most photographed subject of a wedding, other than the bride and groom, in my sweaty hot hands. No pressure…

3) The Friendly Uncle. Go ahead… let your mind run wild. I was creeped out. You should be too. Imagine being in a house by yourself, halfway through THE Cake and The Friendly Uncle comes up behind you and scares the bejeezus out of you by tapping you on the shoulder. (You’re blasting All The Above from your iPod btw.) The he over-zealously invites you to go four wheeling on the farm. He wants to “show you around”. Honey, child… I’ve seen it all. No thanks. Also, I’m making THE Cake. Clearly in the middle of making frosting here pally-o. Also… please get your hand off my waist friend. Much thanks. TFU leaves (finally) and I am left to my devices. Now freaked out *and* creeped out.

Thankfully, one of the other bridesmaids helped me with some of the preliminary procedures such as separating over 50 egg whites and sugaring “olive” branches. I never did find any so I just used some palm leaves I found at Michael’s, cut off every other leaf and *TA DA* “olive” branches. Then it was all beat, beat, add flour, add liquid, beat some more… Bake, Bake, Bake, Cool. For twelve. hours. straight. Then I made the Chocolate Buttercream which turned out perfectly. So. Yum. Vanilla Buttercream on the mound… and FAIL.

For whatever reason, it curdled. I’ve never seen buttercream do that before. I was flummoxed. I also said a lot of swear words and kept beating. Sometimes (apparently) it helps. Well, it did… but it just turned to flat butter again. Son. of a bitch. I had to go BACK to the store. Buy MORE eggs. More Butter. And pray that my card would work. It did.

10 pm. Back in the kitchen, making more meringue. Adding butter and praying to the Little Lord Jesus that this would work. It did. Ammmmaaaaziiing Grace!!! 13 hours and counting….

There are two pictures of me making the cake. Will I show you? No. But I will show you pictures of the progress. It was a no makeup day. And despite what you might think… I am vain sometimes. Plus, I was wearing cake and frosting, plus old t-shirts and jeans. I was a hot mess. Uncool. I gave my beauty to the cake.

It was finally time to pile, frost and repeat. Plus dowels. Plus decorate. Looking back I regret not taking pictures but I was so exhausted by the end of this process. My nerves were shot. My hands were beyond hot which did not bode well for the frosting. (I’m a hot handed baker… not a good candidate for chocolatiering.) Also, I wasn’t wearing shoes and really should have been. I thought barefoot contessa was the way to go but uh… not so much. My feet were so swollen they looked like fat kid feet, let’s not even talk about the cankles. All in all the process took about fourteen and a half hours, one shirt change (due to the grocery store trip) two pots of coffee for yours truly, and fifty seven prayers. I had to sleep on my stomach, which is mostly verboten for a busty girl, just so my feet could be in the air. That sounds sexual. Believe me, it wasn’t. There is nothing sexy about standing for over fourteen hours unless you’re also wrapped around a pole wearing pasties.

So… the final break down: The first layer and the top layer both had chocolate buttercream filling and the middle layer had raspberry… for the groom. It was all crumb coated in Vanilla Buttercream and then I piped straight(ish) shingles over the entire cake, starting at the bottom, with Vanilla Buttercream. It took 11 dowels and 6 cakes. We ended up not needing the full sheet…. thank God.

Here are the only pictures I have of the process…

The Aftermath

Vanilla Buttercream Meet Chocolate Buttercream

Here She Comes...

I put her in the freezer and literally duct taped it shut. I was mostly happy with it. There are a few mistakes but I was so damn tired. I had no energy to start over. Every cake has a front and a back. This one had a few. Haha!

And of course the final product….

Blue Delphiniums and Sugared "Olive" Branches

From the top(ish)

Because I thought it was pretty...

There was leftover batter so I made cupcakes. I wish I had a picture of them. They were gorgeous. They were used for the Bridal Shower and people ate them randomly through the week. And here we go with the confession of the day: I actually don’t like cake. I. Know. Frosting just kind of grosses me out, I will usually scrape it off before I eat cakes or cupcakes. I’m weird, you know that. I had a couple of bites at the reception but overall I just wanted everyone else to enjoy it.

...don't eat cake. (Thanks Salt!)

So here’s what earned me the Most Useful Bridesmaid Award:

1) I made THE Cake.

2) While making THE Cake, I stopped to do Missy’s hair and makeup for her night out with the ‘rents. To say that I was distrait is an understatement.

3) I had the numbers for Delta and United to check on flight arrivals for all unaccounted for attendees. (This was very useful.)

4) I did hair and makeup for the girls throughout the week and on the day of the wedding.

5) I provided entertainment. (because I’m funny… come on… fuckin’ sickos.)

6) I rounded up some gentlemen at a bar during the Bachelorette Party to help us with our list. (More on this later.)

Will I ever do this again? One full day of cake marathon? No, probably not. It was hell. I was SO happy to do it for Missy, believe me. But I will never attempt a cake in one day ever again. I lived. I learned.

I’m still working on the other blogs that have little to do with the wedding and lots to do with me saying thank you, swooning over Mr. Wonderful (seriously, I don’t do this… but my Lord, he is perfect) and winning awards. Y’all are good to me. Plus, I’m guest blogging over at Sarah’s this weekend! Hot dog!

See ya soon my lovelies!

• Pin It
• Share
• Tweet