Talent Isn't Genetic

I’m walking, talking living proof that talent isn’t genetic. My mom is a very talented baker and cake decorator and while I may be a pretty good baker the decorating gene clearly skipped generation with me.

It was my mom’s birthday this past week and we have a tradition in our household that the birthday person gets to pick what they want for dinner and what kind of cake they want. My mom made the decision this year she wasn’t going to make her own cake. And basically told me I was doing it if I liked it or not.

Making the cake itself wasn’t a problem for me. Baking is science and if you can follow a recipe you can’t screw it up. The problem was I knew I had to decorate it and that really isn’t my strong suit. I lack patients......and artist ability.  

Plus my mom makes gorgeous cakes. I’ll include a picture of a wedding cake she made for a friend a few months ago. And keep in mind she hates doing wedding cakes it’s by far the weakest cakes she makes. If that’s her weakness you can imagine how screwed I was.

My brain was spinning for a week trying to think of something I could do that wouldn’t look like it was made by a 3 year old. I was brain storming ideas of things my mom likes and at the top of the list was painting. The house is full of things she’s painted. I knew straight off the bat I couldn’t do that in cake form but it got me thinking. Luckily what I lack in artist skill I make up for in lateral thinking. So my brain went from actual paintings to equipment they use; splats on an artist pallet was my first thought, then my brain went from splats to abstract art. For a person who lacks artist skill abstract art is good place to be and then it hit me, my favourite artist Jackson Pollock.

If there’s one artist whose work I could do some form of justice to it’s his. Not to mention the idea instantly made me laugh which is always a sign something is going to be a lot of fun. So I went with it. I put a layer of white buttercream on the cake, made up some different coloured glaze icings and started fling them at the cake. I can’t begin to tell you how much fun it was, I was just giggling like a school girl the whole time. Even while I was cleaning the huge mess I made I was still laughing especially went I noticed the blue icing on the ceiling. I even managed to get some on the back of the shirt I was wearing. That’s kind of impressive is truly messed up sort of way.

The cake itself looked fun and most importantly everyone who saw it smiled....ok they burst out laughing but you can’t laugh while frowning. That cake got more laughs then most clowns; I don’t blame them one little bit, even I couldn’t keep a straight face looking at it.

My mom loved it; she said it looked and tasted great although she did say it was a little more Jackson Pollock’s drop cloth then his artwork but who cares it was definitely memorable and more fun than anyone should really have in a kitchen.

So tell me, what’s your favourite birthday cake and while you’re at it, what’s your favourite kitchen memory? Let me know in the comment box below.

As always my dears stay and play safe, Love,

The Honest Bitch 
xoxoxo