28 September 2013
do you know my boss? do you know what her husband looks like? did you know they were having a baby? no?
sucks for you.
oh shit. do they know they're having a baby? well, i guess they do now... congrats, you guys!?!!
but, for real, of all the cakes on this blog, i'm pretty sure this is the most inside of inside jokes. the deepest of deep cuts. might as well throw some glasses on it and call it a hipster. but, please don't. i don't want it to lose it's street cred.
everybody be cool.
but, for those of you on the outside of this joke, all you need to know is that my boss is having a baby boy. so, i made the baby look as much like her husband as possible because, ya know, he is also a boy. tmi?
and, anyway, her husband's last name is mattoo. so, it was going to say, "congrats on mattoo number two!" because they already have a mattoo number one (coincidentally, that is her name) and "mattoo number two" had a nice ring to it.
however, nothing gets past my eagle eye*, and there was an obvious opportunity to make a pun here. so you know, in "badger's rules of baking," the third rule is, if you have the choice between making a pun or not, you make the fucking pun. rule one is always dance around your kitchen like you're in a baking montage; although, be sure to turn the volume down on the wilson-phillips enough to hear the oven timer go off. and the second rule is beer before liquor.
so, following the third rule, "mattoo number two" became "mat-two." and the cake was a huge success. looks like i set the bar pretty high for the actual mat-two... sorry, kid. no pressure.
TOTAL DECORATING TIME: 1.5 hours + $9.99 spent on the wilson-phillips greatest "hits" collection.
mattoo number three,
*my other eye is a regular human one
ps - CONGRATS, stacy and kan!
15 September 2013
yes, this is part two of a two-part post. if you want to read part one, just click here...
just kidding. stop being so fucking lazy. scroll down. or read them out of order. i'm not going to tell you how to live your life.
anyway, my boss asked for a cake for her engagement party. again, a bunch of real people (a lot of them my bosses*) were going to be at this party. no sober six-year-olds, but still... it wasn't just me and my friends at some power hour in studio city where you're lucky if you can even find a clean shot glass and you might as well just give up and drink out of some tupperware. this was a real engagement party. at a real place. that served wine... so, classy as fuck.
on top of that, i was asked to make this a cake of cats... her cats... getting married. oh, no trouble, i've made like ten cakes of chicken and pickle - riding bikes, buying their first car, opening a checking account, you name it. but, unfortunately, i'd never done one of them getting married. so, in order to get the coloring of chicken and pickle's coats just right, it took like 3-10 hours of stalking pictures of them on facebook. like, what line of work brings together all my favorite things like this? dream job!!!
now, in my research, i learned that chicken and pickle are siblings. so, not only does this cake promote bestial matrimony, but, also, incest. sassy badger is nothing if not political.
anyway, at the end of the day, i feel like this cake went really well. the happy couple seemed pleased. chicken and pickle haven't returned my phone call yet.
but, overall, it was a fairly successful weekend, given the circumstances i outlined in part one. i did learn some things though.
1. never, ever, ever, ever work without a refrigerator. ever. why even bother living without one, really? you might as well just end it all and look forward to that stainless-steel-top-freezer-Kenmore-with-an-ice-dispenser-in-the-sky. i hear god always keeps the dispenser set to crushed, though, unfortunately.
2. don't ever, ever, ever, ever attempt such a busy weekend without the help of the woman who passed you through her vagina and then, an indeterminate amount of time later, taught you all her cake-decorating wisdom. you'd be nothing without her, and your cakes would suck, and you'd have no friends.
sorry for getting personal there. but seriously, thanks, mom.
TOTAL DECORATING TIME: 3.5 hours + a quick shot up my dress for the valet as i tried to lug this thing out of the car. who should be tipping who, buddy?
owner of nine lives,
*just realizing i have a lot of bosses.
before i start talking about this cake specifically, i feel as though i need to set up some things about this weekend. "this weekend" as in the one in which i baked this cake, not "this weekend" as in this weekend in which i am writing this. because those are two separate weekends.
shit, i know, time is a trippy concept, man. do try to keep up.
so, "this weekend" had many factors at play that destined it to be the hardest weekend in baking history. at least according to wikipedia.
1. i was asked to make two cakes for the same day.
sure. that's happened to me before. really not a big deal. you just hit a point where you tell yourself, "listen, fucker,* you're not going to get a lot of sleep tonight. so, stop checking your facebook and those dawson's creek fan boards and get to work."
1a. i was asked by two of my bosses to make two cakes for the same day.
alright, this is totally fine. happens to me all the time. that people with real parties and real friends and real requests want something that is nice and presentable for their guests to see. oh, sure, that is what sassy badger is all about. i don't know if you've seen the quality of this free blog i use to promote myself, but my business is nothing if not professional.
2. i didn't have a refrigerator.
i have recently moved. don't ask me where. and the refrigerator that was supposed to come the day before the weekend did not... and refrigerators, i don't know if you know this, are good at keeping things cold. and there are a lot of things that should be kept cold while baking. mostly alcohol. but, basically, no refrigerator was bad news bears. the original, not the remake.
also, it's hot in the city where i live. no, i won't tell you which one, so stop asking. but that made it extra difficult to keep things from melting. it required lots of macgyvering of the air-conditioning and fans and ice chests, and it was just so, so, so, so difficult... please let me know if you need my address to send me that medal of bravery. omg, stop trying to figure out where i live.
3. my mom was in town.
ugh. moms are the worst, am i right? always asking, "what can i do for you?" "how can i help?" "want me to slave away in your hot kitchen while you're at work so that things are ready for you when you get home?" like, just shut up and make me a sandwich already.
so, that was the situation of "this weekend." once you've all taken a moment to reflect on what a trooper i am, we can talk about this spider-man cake.
now, i've done a spider-man cake before. but, obviously, i had to make this one different. obviously, i had to make things more difficult on myself. obviously, i'll be getting that medal in the mail any day now.
anyway, this cake was for my boss's son and his birthday party of 25 six-year-olds. like i said before, it's kind of terrifying to send your cake out into a situation like that... where everyone is sober. it actually has to look good. and you can't get away with writing snarky, profanity-filled things on the cake because, you know, fucking six-year-olds.
luckily, a cake that feeds twenty-five is massive. it gave me a lot of room to add the details to the spidey suit, which i was actually very worried about. by the time i went to bed, i thought it was the most hideous cake i'd ever made. but, just like no one-night stand ever, it looked way better in the morning. and i'm actually pretty happy with it.
just a little bit of very specific trivia that you certainly do not care about: there are gummy bears inside that cake. i wish i had gotten a picture, but somebody flipped the cake over and iced it before i got a chance. jesus, ma, you had one job to do...
TOTAL DECORATING TIME: 3 hours + one delicious sandwich. thanks, mom.
playing spider-man in the reboot of the reboot,
*it's okay for me to call myself that. we're close friends.