Preposterously late in blogging this week due to crewing, writing deadlines, and—most of all—the little engine that finally could, pictured here. It was a gift from a bride to her new husband, a FDNY fireman.
This was my first effort in combining cake (technically brownies, and stick around for the story on that) and candy (rolled fondant, ditto), and let’s just say there was a bit of a learning curve. It was due April 23. Let’s look at the timeline.
April 1-April 21: Buy ingredients for a chocolate sponge cake, which would be sturdy enough to handle the heft of icing on top as well as the trip into Brooklyn, and all extraneous supplies. Review two Youtube videos, especially the one with the woman who sounds like an Australian flight attendant, for clues on how to get this structure standing. IM two bakers and a fireman to pick their brains. Create lists upon lists.
April 22: Noon. Bake chocolate sponge cake in shallow pans per the flight attendant, and figure that anything with 16 eggs in it will surely rise. Gloat a little on how well you’ve planned. Once baked, note that it more closely resembles a brown Fruit Roll-Up than a cake. Stop gloating.
2p: Bake again—another 16 eggs, mind you—in a 9 x 13″ pan. When it’s cool two hours later, remove it from the pan and find a distressing semi-dried eggy pool at the bottom. Panic. Taste a smidge. Re-panic when, eggy weirdness aside, it also tastes like a Sealy Posturepedic. Tuck entirety unceremoniously into a giant plastic bag and freeze, not having the heart to throw it away.
4p: Pull out my no-fail brownie recipe. Head to store for a second 9 x 13″ pan as well as more eggs, and hope I don’t continue to insult the nation’s chickens.
5p: Bake and let cool. Start making fondant details for the engine. Make buttercream icing and tint with red gel paste. Stack up brownies with raspberry jam and cover with buttercream, which I was assured would lie smoothly. After two coats, it still does not. Re-panic, realize I have to cover the cake with fondant if it’s ever going to lie smoothly, and hope I can do a decent job, since I’ve never covered a cake with fondant in my life.
8p: Pull out every fondant package I own. Re-re-panic when realize have run out of red gel paste. Too tired and busy making fondant details to head back out for more, and besides, the store is probably closed. Continue making details while doing something resembling Lamaze breathing. It does not produce new jars of red gel paste, let alone a completed fire engine cake, regrettably.
April 23, 8a: At the store the very minute it opens, grab three red gel pastes, dash home, add 2.5 entire jars of it to a whole package of fondant, and cover the cake. Be grateful that it looks better, if not great. Brownies are bumpy little buggers. Finish accessorizing. Deliver 45 minutes late.
I learned a crucial lesson: planning for a month doesn’t always mean smooth sailing. But it’s cool. I also punted problems left and right. The cake didn’t collapse on the way to Brooklyn. I knew, if nothing else, my brownie recipe wouldn’t fail me.
And let’s face it: I heard the groom and his buddies took the cake back to the firehouse and devoured it. A gaggle of happy firemen with their faces stuffed with homemade brownies is reward enough.
I’ve slowly been eating the sponge cake broken into pieces. After a few days and doused in plain vanilla yogurt, it’s not half bad.