So my project over the past month has been the creation of 150 cakes for my cousins wedding. This weekend was the wedding and of course no wedding is without drama.
Last Thursday, I started the daunting task of icing all 150 cupcakes. Red Velvet cake with marscapone cheese and vanilla frosting, mint chocolate chip with mint matchmaker and chocolate frosting, caramel with honeycomb and vanilla frosting and finally lemon with lemon, white chocolate and cream cheese frosting.
Once frosted, we left to set and then bagged individually in cellophane.
I felt like I was on cupcake wars, no word of a lie, we had time restraints, dramas with the icing bag and various nozzles, cupcakes committing suicide, icing being lumpy due to the lemon and white chocolate hot chocolate mix clumping together, icing sugar descending a plume of dust all over everything in the kitchen, the drama of icing sugar in my eye and of course being so stressed and hot and covered in frosting that when you wipe your face you end up looking like a chocolate cupcake yourself.
On the whole, it was a successful run, until the wedding day itself.
Due to lack of communication on both parts and assumption from my Mother, we delivered the cupcakes the Royal British Legion in High Wycombe like planned, attended the wedding and went to check in at the hotel…
My cousin (one of many, in this case the father of the bride) was in my car directing us back to the venue, which didn’t need much doing, as we already knew where it was! Ha! we were organised, so don’t patronise us with directions, we know fully well our way round thank you very much! right?
As we cockily pulled into the venue, my cousin looked alarmed, very alarmed. “This isn’t the venue, it’s the other Royal British Legion”
Now I’m the one looking alarmed, a month of work, 4 different flavours of cupcakes made, 4 batches of icing, 150 cakes in bags… in the wrong wedding reception..
Mum looked at me, I looked at Mum, my heart started to palpitate, pains were running down my left arm, about 30 minutes (okay, 3 seconds) passed before someone said something, carefully, as to not alarm me further, my cousin suggested him and my mum get them back.
DAMN RIGHT YOU WILL
So they cautiously entered the building, as to not arose suspicion, they were gone 5 minutes, I had images of cakes being eaten, merrily handed out to unsuspecting wedding guests, grateful that someone so nice had given them such a wonderful, if surprising gift! I was close to tears as the minutes slowly ticked by..
The the boot opened, and 150 perfectly fine and untouched cupcakes were gently but hastily thrown in my cousin yelling quick go!!!!!
Confused, the boot was closed and Mum and my cousin jumped in, breathless and laughing. Rather than explain the mix up and admit mistake they had entered the room we’d left the cupcakes in without anyone noticing and stole them back.
Quite rightly so..
They entered my cousins wedding reception, the correct one this time, to a rapture of applause and awe, in our flurry of trying to get the back, they had the drama of trying to find 150 invisible cupcakes that hadn’t arrived, despite assurances from my Mum at the wedding that they were “delivered safely”
So the moral of this story kids is this: Always check the venue your cakes need to go to and maybe get your heart checked out beforehand… just in case.
Despite my declarations of “I never want to see or eat another cupcake again!” I ate one, and it was bloody good.