The Great Cake Fiasco
Weeks ago (maybe months ago!) Cora spotted a Barbie cake at the grocery store, the kind where the Barbie sits inside and the cake looks like a skirt. She begged me to buy it then and put it away for her birthday, and she's talked about it ever since. So the cake choice this year seemed obvious. I did a little research beforehand to try to find the best way to bake it. I had a feeling baking in a bowl would be difficult, and a little online researching by my mother-in-law proved the theory right. So we had an iron-clad plan: bake a bundt cake and put the doll inside of that. Just to be safe, I baked a second cake to put under the bundt cake to make sure it would be high enough.
The baking went to plan. I even got a cute picture of Cora watching it bake (although she had no idea what I was baking!). The cake came out perfect and golden and smelling wonderfully. We tucked the kids and planned to decorate the cake quickly so we could get some sleep. Full of optimism, I stacked the cakes and tucked the Barbie inside--up to her waist. The cake was nowhere near tall enough! In a bit of a panic, I bent the doll in half hoping she could sit inside the cake. I tucked her in--and put her legs right through the side of the bundt cake. Pieces of cake split off in every direction and fell as I scrambled to catch the crumbling cake. I quickly reached for the frosting--which I'd mixed by hand and came out extra runny despite using all of the icing sugar in the house-- to try to patch the mess. Micah suggested skewers. We quickly snapped them into halves and tucked them into the cake like rebar. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was holding. For a few seconds, it looked like it may all hold together.
And then slowly, surely, the pieces began to pull away again. Instead of big chunks of cake this time, the sides of the cake crumbled and rolled off the plate. Clearly we needed a plan B. We searched the cupboards and fridge and came up with a plan: an ice cream cake. Micah reached for the only ice cream we had in the house, a multi-colored "Scooperman" ice cream left over from Thomas' birthday. It was frozen solid, so we microwaved it until it finally softened. Pulling out the fourth or fifth bowl of the night, we mixed the ice cream and crumbled cake pieces together. All that colorful ice cream mixed together to make roughly the color of bile, but at least it was sticking together. I grabbed another mixing bowl and filled it with the cake mix. It only came about halfway up. Searching the cupboards, we found yet another bowl--this one a little taller and narrower. I put a stack of cups in the middle of the bowl for the doll's legs and filled the batter in around it, then put it in the freezer.
Sometime later I came back to check on it. Still soft. It returned to the freezer for a little longer. At long last, somewhere around 10:30 pm, it was frozen enough. I turned the bowl upside down to slide the cake onto a plate. I had greased it well, hoping it would slide out easily. But it was frozen fast. I put a warm washcloth on the bowl. No luck. I slid a knife around the edges. It still didn't budge. Finally Micah shook the bowl enough over the plate that the cake slid out. A mound of frozen bile. I reached for the blue icing, which was greenish and mostly liquid, and began to spread it over the cake. It drizzled down and lay in a puddle around the bottom of the plate. We decided what this cake would need was layers of frosting, so back to the freezer it went to allow the first coating to freeze and harden.
Half an hour later, we applied the second coat. Still a little patchy, but mostly covered. The cake went back to the freezer again. Finally we were ready to decorate. I scooped the excess frosting off of the plate and pulled out a gel icing tube. I had visions of a cute red scalloped border around the skirt, and maybe even some flowers. I shook the tube, since it hadn't been used for a while, and squeezed it onto the cake in a swooping pattern. Red liquid spurted out of the tube and ran down the side of the runny, greenish, half-covered frosting. In a panic I reached for a knife and scraped it off as well as I could. I did my best to patch the section with frosting. We would go without extra decorations. It was time to put the doll in and see if this had been worth all the fuss. I'd measured and re-measured to make sure this cake would be tall enough. Carefully, I tucked the Barbie's legs into the hole--and watched as her feet shot out through the side of the cake. Oh no! More frosting was applied as I patched the crumbling cake.
She was in. And it mostly looked like a skirt. Except that the hole around the doll was really too big. Aha! Fruit snacks. We would put a border of fruit snacks around her. Nearly frantic (now that it was almost midnight), I tore open two packages of fruit snacks. The contents of one package landed squarely in the puddle of water that condensation from the ice cream had left behind. A third package was opened, and I began to arrange the candies around the waist. But the hole was too big, and the candies slipped down inside the skirt. No matter how I put them, they couldn't balance on the tiny ledge. Toothpicks. We grabbed toothpicks and set them over the hole, then set the fruit snacks on top of them. It worked. Without wanting to look again at the bile-colored, hole-punched, soupy mess we threw it in the freezer and went to bed.
Early this morning I got up and set the cake out on the table. From a distance it actually didn't look too bad. Cora came down to find the room decorated, gifts on the table, and a Barbie cake for breakfast. She squealed and said, "I knew it would be this cake!" She was grinning ear to ear and couldn't wait to eat it. We ate Barbie birthday cake for breakfast, and everyone was happy. This is one cake no one will forget...
The baking went to plan. I even got a cute picture of Cora watching it bake (although she had no idea what I was baking!). The cake came out perfect and golden and smelling wonderfully. We tucked the kids and planned to decorate the cake quickly so we could get some sleep. Full of optimism, I stacked the cakes and tucked the Barbie inside--up to her waist. The cake was nowhere near tall enough! In a bit of a panic, I bent the doll in half hoping she could sit inside the cake. I tucked her in--and put her legs right through the side of the bundt cake. Pieces of cake split off in every direction and fell as I scrambled to catch the crumbling cake. I quickly reached for the frosting--which I'd mixed by hand and came out extra runny despite using all of the icing sugar in the house-- to try to patch the mess. Micah suggested skewers. We quickly snapped them into halves and tucked them into the cake like rebar. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was holding. For a few seconds, it looked like it may all hold together.
And then slowly, surely, the pieces began to pull away again. Instead of big chunks of cake this time, the sides of the cake crumbled and rolled off the plate. Clearly we needed a plan B. We searched the cupboards and fridge and came up with a plan: an ice cream cake. Micah reached for the only ice cream we had in the house, a multi-colored "Scooperman" ice cream left over from Thomas' birthday. It was frozen solid, so we microwaved it until it finally softened. Pulling out the fourth or fifth bowl of the night, we mixed the ice cream and crumbled cake pieces together. All that colorful ice cream mixed together to make roughly the color of bile, but at least it was sticking together. I grabbed another mixing bowl and filled it with the cake mix. It only came about halfway up. Searching the cupboards, we found yet another bowl--this one a little taller and narrower. I put a stack of cups in the middle of the bowl for the doll's legs and filled the batter in around it, then put it in the freezer.
Sometime later I came back to check on it. Still soft. It returned to the freezer for a little longer. At long last, somewhere around 10:30 pm, it was frozen enough. I turned the bowl upside down to slide the cake onto a plate. I had greased it well, hoping it would slide out easily. But it was frozen fast. I put a warm washcloth on the bowl. No luck. I slid a knife around the edges. It still didn't budge. Finally Micah shook the bowl enough over the plate that the cake slid out. A mound of frozen bile. I reached for the blue icing, which was greenish and mostly liquid, and began to spread it over the cake. It drizzled down and lay in a puddle around the bottom of the plate. We decided what this cake would need was layers of frosting, so back to the freezer it went to allow the first coating to freeze and harden.
Half an hour later, we applied the second coat. Still a little patchy, but mostly covered. The cake went back to the freezer again. Finally we were ready to decorate. I scooped the excess frosting off of the plate and pulled out a gel icing tube. I had visions of a cute red scalloped border around the skirt, and maybe even some flowers. I shook the tube, since it hadn't been used for a while, and squeezed it onto the cake in a swooping pattern. Red liquid spurted out of the tube and ran down the side of the runny, greenish, half-covered frosting. In a panic I reached for a knife and scraped it off as well as I could. I did my best to patch the section with frosting. We would go without extra decorations. It was time to put the doll in and see if this had been worth all the fuss. I'd measured and re-measured to make sure this cake would be tall enough. Carefully, I tucked the Barbie's legs into the hole--and watched as her feet shot out through the side of the cake. Oh no! More frosting was applied as I patched the crumbling cake.
She was in. And it mostly looked like a skirt. Except that the hole around the doll was really too big. Aha! Fruit snacks. We would put a border of fruit snacks around her. Nearly frantic (now that it was almost midnight), I tore open two packages of fruit snacks. The contents of one package landed squarely in the puddle of water that condensation from the ice cream had left behind. A third package was opened, and I began to arrange the candies around the waist. But the hole was too big, and the candies slipped down inside the skirt. No matter how I put them, they couldn't balance on the tiny ledge. Toothpicks. We grabbed toothpicks and set them over the hole, then set the fruit snacks on top of them. It worked. Without wanting to look again at the bile-colored, hole-punched, soupy mess we threw it in the freezer and went to bed.
Early this morning I got up and set the cake out on the table. From a distance it actually didn't look too bad. Cora came down to find the room decorated, gifts on the table, and a Barbie cake for breakfast. She squealed and said, "I knew it would be this cake!" She was grinning ear to ear and couldn't wait to eat it. We ate Barbie birthday cake for breakfast, and everyone was happy. This is one cake no one will forget...
