An old friend from high school contacted me last week to do a cake for her little sister's birthday party this weekend. I was excited to hear that word of my "caking" was traveling around and ready to take on the challenge. You see, she didn't want just any cake...she wanted a Yorkie cake. Rule number 1. Dogs weren't made to be cake. I figured this out the hard way.
I mapped out my week. Law office by day, and baking by night so that come Friday I was ready to stack, carve, and create a cute puppy dog out of cake. I was on a roll until 9:00pm Friday night when the body of said cute dog was complete and it was time to attach the head. I made the head out of rice crispy treats and had some dowels to help it keep its position on the cake. Easy enough. Head on. Stand back and admire. Looks great to me!
The problems begin when I start to decorate the head. You know, adding the fur, eye balls, and nose. Despite the dowels in place to hold the head up, it keeps sliding off of the cake, taking huge chunks of cake and icing along with it! Panic mode!! So I patch up the cake, add more dowels, run out to get more icing, and get back to find the head and MORE cake chunks on the counter and NOT on the cake where they belong. I patched and iced, rearranged and doweled until my husband got home from work around 2:30am. [He works at a local restaurant] Needless to say he was surprised to see me awake at that hour of the night, but even more so to find me sitting on the kitchen floor staring at a pile of cake crumbs covered in icing, holding a rice crispy dog head in my hand.
Per his loving advice we went to bed in hopes that the little cake elves would show up in the middle of the night and work their magic on the crumbling pile of chocolate cake in my fridge. Did not happen. I woke up to a bigger mess than the one I left the night before. I was supposed to deliver this thing at 11:00, and I had to call my friend at 8:00 to tell her there would be no Yorkie cake. "The cake died," I told her. I. Felt. Horrible.
upon finding the cake in this state...it was officially miller time.
After admitting defeat, the husband and I were navigating the kitchen to assemble some type of breakfast when we got a call from one of his friends. This friend was having a birthday today as well and was calling to cancel his party as he had to make a visit to the ER the night before. The "dead Yorkie" still in the kitchen, we joked around about bringing him the dog's butt -- the only part of the cake that stayed intact. Soon the jokes started sounding like a great idea. What better than a big dog butt made out of cake to cheer you up on your post ER birthday? We removed all the crumbling parts and delivered this to our friend's home...
The icing reads, "Heard you felt like butt on your birthday"
Out of the disastrous weekend comes a new simplysarahsimon staple: get well/feel better cakes involving butts of any kind and witty "feel like butt" sayings.