- The freaky chocolate children of Moscow
- Cadbury Offers to Pay £1 of Your Hospital Bill
- Poor Ireland gets stuck with Time Out
- Halloween in England
- UPDATE: My One-Month Plan to Seduce the Chocolate Man
- Cocaine is not Candy, Boys and Girls
- The long walk home
- Turndown Service
- A Daily, 5-Second Vacation for The Chosen
Monday, May 15, 2006
Wedding cake is almost always a disappointment. First, the icing is cheap—not sugary, supermarket cupcake sweet, but rather creamy, fatty cheap. Next, the cake is usually some variation of the yellow or chocolate Betty Crocker cake mix you can make yourself at home—minus the bonus of getting to lick the batter. And then there’s the decoration of the cake itself—boring, boring, boring. No one ever goes in for blue cakes or theme cakes anymore—why?
Of course I will eat any wedding cake I’m served, but each time I lift that fork of colored fat into my mouth I think of all of the wonderful things that could have been. A salmon-pink, multi-tiered number with chocolate cake and strawberry mousse filling. A classic white cake with little chocolate buttons. A massive chocolate fondant that oozes chocolate across the room once it’s sliced open. Or what about an ice cream cake! It may not scream class, but who doesn’t like ice cream? (Incidentally, I have a 14-year-old cousin who is both a convicted arsonist and engaged—an ice cream wedding cake would be the perfect safety-proof, age-appropriate cake, don’t you think?)
This is why I was so pleasantly surprised by the non-cakiness of the wedding cake I had this past weekend in Santiago de Compostela. Anders married his novia in a three billion-year-old church, after which the newlyweds cut their cake with a massive sword that Isabel and Ferdinand had used to conquer Granada in 1492. (Check out the newspaper article about the boda spanglish.)
Although the sword-cut item looked like a classic white cake number, the cake we were served was from an entirely different genus of the cake kingdom, sliding in somewhere between a mille feuille and a pastry puff. I was a little too drunk at that point to really tell you what it tasted like, but I do vaguely remember the taste sensations—cream, sweet and crispy. I’ll let you reconstruct from that. Oh, and don’t forget to add a dollop of vanilla ice cream on the side.
BTW, there is no photo of the cake, so instead you get a photo of Anders and Maria. May they live happily ever after...Roguemos al Senor!
Categories: wedding-cake, Anders, Spain, icing, Betty-Crocker