Life's better with cake and a sprinkle of fairy dust
This is one trend that’s destined to be out as soon as it is in. After one hairdresser vehemently dissuaded me from bleaching the life out of my locks in order to take on cute pink ombre (ARm-brUH) highlights, I decided ombre was best left to cakes.
Ombre was the source of much emotional upheaval for me last weekend. Baked a pink ombre cake for one-year-old girl birthday party and was at the receiving end of a slew of undeserved, imo, and unnecessarily aggressive interrogations and accusations. Then in a surprising turn of events, I was promptly vindicated by some lovely glowing feedback from another order.
The alleged aggressor asked for a suitable cake for a one-year-old girl’s birthday. A pink ombre cake was agreed upon and the rest of the details were, from the horse’ mouth, “left up to you”, which I hear oft from the people who ask me to bake an occasion cake for them.
Below is a picture of the offensive cake.
The main complaints were that why had I done so little to decorate the cake? Why hadn’t I used my professional discretion to decorate the cake such that it was suitable for a one-year-old girl’s birthday party? Why did I pipe rosettes and not basket weave design like the picture of another ombre cake on the Web? Why are the rosettes on the top of the cake and the top layer of the sides the same shade of pink? Why didn’t I make the ombre effect on the top as well and not cause her the inconvenience of having to take pictures of the cake from the side and not from the top? Where is the festive bunting (by this comment, I’m guessing she had no idea what was bunting, or she felt the bunting was not festive enough)? Why wasn’t I informed that you were going to make the cake like this? Why? Why? Why?
Let me tell you why.
Because you left it up to me.
Alright, granted everyone’s notion of “suitable for the occasion” differs. Then she had issues with the cake itself.
It was “too sweet, even for someone with a sweet tooth.”
“I thought I told you to make it less sweet.” (No you didn’t, honey.)
“Someone at the party thought it was too creamy.” Uh-huh.
“It was disappointing.” Ouch.
So, do you want your money back?
Still, it bothered me. Was something wrong with my recipes? I run all my recipes through my husband who has one of the most perceptive palates I know and whose honesty is brutal to a fault when it comes to food. I have fed him stuff he called “shit” and “cardboard” and “blah” (with the screwed up face) before. I have thrown out scores of pans of cake that did not get the sire’s stamp of approval. What exactly went wrong here?
I feared for the worst because I had used the exact same cake and buttercream recipe for another order of cupcakes that weekend.
My fears were allayed when I received a glowing report about the cupcakes. The cupcakes were found to be yummy – soft, moist and light. The customer was pleasantly surprised and wished she had ordered more so she could keep them for herself. With a promise of another order in the pipeline, I heaved a great sigh of relief. Vindicated.
I really can’t please everyone. Sometimes I catch people on a bad day. Sometimes my decisions are questioned. But no matter what hateful comments come my way, I just do one thing.
Bake another one.