I made my own wedding cake. And it rocked.
(It’s better to get the boasting over with right away, don’t you agree.)
As mentioned in this post, I have dreamed of baking ‘The Cake’ for years. Second only to marrying Mr Darcy, it was the most important feature of my girlhood bridal fantasies, more significant than the dress, the venue, or anything else for that matter.
A week before the wedding I baked the four layers of almond sponge. Rich and moist with a generous amount of almond paste, they came out of the oven in beautiful golden rounds, fragrant with sweet almonds and a whisper of vanilla. The morning of our big day I woke at 6 am and stumbled bleary eyed into the kitchen to finish my work. I sliced the layers and filled each with a generous measure of chunky black cherry preserves. Next, I whipped up a bitter mocha icing and slathered it over each layer, smoothing over the rough bits with a hot wet knife. Then, as the clock ticked down I decorated each layer with edible pearls, securing each tiny orb into the icing with the aid of tweezers, breathing hard and trying valiantly to keep my hand from trembling.
I placed the final round on the cake and blinked. Somewhat to my surprise it had worked. All that midnight baking and eleventh hour decorating had worked. I was staring at a beautiful wedding cake.
Photos by Hannah Wahl