The doors

In Grade 4, I watched Poltergeist at a birthday party and could not sleep for three nights, convinced that trees and clowns would attack me. What followed was a solid avoidance of scary movies (as well as TV commercials for scary movies) for many years, until it became my spousal obligation to view The Shining, the 1980 classic directed by Stanley Kubrick.

As a result, I was actually quite prepared when asked to create a cake for a major fan of The Shining. I even do a great imitation of Shelley Duvall waving her knife around in a deadly panic. Thankfully, I was essentially given carte blanche in the design and after some reflection, I realized that there were many doors of significance throughout the movie. And what better way to feature doors than on a "cube"-like cake (get it, KUBRICK?)?

One of the most memorable scenes is when Jack violently axes his way through the bathroom door. This is actually the same door on which Danny wrote REDRUM in lipstick. I can still hear that freaky growly voice echoing in my head. Behind the doors of Room 237, some of the most disturbing scenes of the movie occurred, reminding us all to never approach strange naked women in bathtubs. Finally, the most vivid image of the movie for me was the torrent of blood rushing out of the distinctive red elevator. I gave the birthday boy a bag of bloody piping gel to squeeze onto the cake right before serving so unfortunately, none is shown in my photos.

This proved to be a project where the beauty was in the details. Much time was spent reviewing images in order to perfectly match each door knob, door molding, and wall pattern. Serendipitously, the movie was actually on TV the night before the cake was to be ready, and I realized that the apartment wall was actually pink, not white. My favourite item was the top of the cake, representing the memorable bold pattern of the hotel hallway carpet, which was made by piping and flooding royal icing onto a dried fondant square.

Here are the technical details: the cake was 4" x 4" x 6", layers of espresso chocolate cake, dark chocolate mousse, and hazelnut crunch. Every panel was made of dried fondant, later decorated with tiny fondant bits and royal icing details. It was intentionally constructed like this in hopes that the "box" created by the five panels would be lifted off the cake intact and potentially saved for future admiration! I have no clue if this happened but I certainly know that this cake was much loved by both its creator and its recipient.

Gone fishing (again)

A friend of Eric's once commented that our small DVD collection should belong to a seven year old, not two thirty-something professionals. Perhaps he was right in that a few too many Harry Potter movies and Pixar animated flicks fill the shelf. In my defence, most DVDs in my possession were gifts; however, I admit that Finding Nemo and Ratatouille do rank extremely high amongst my list of all-time favourites. So when the opportunity to make a Nemo cake for a clownfish-loving two year old named Kara came up, it was hard to refuse.

A 6" dome, a 9" round and an 8" square cake were first assembled together before Nemo was carved freehand. Chocolate and vanilla cake with vanilla mousseline and strawberries were chosen flavours. Although the original intention was for 30 servings, I have a feeling this Nemo could have fed closer to 45 servings! (For scale, the cake board used was 16" x 24" in dimension.)


Nemo was covered in rolled fondant and coloured with both airbrushing and hand painting. The purple and gold corals were made of rock sugar while the green sea weed was very rudimentary pulled sugar. I wanted to give an underwater effect by adding a sheet of clear blue bubble sugar. Ultimately, the Nemo cake was so convincing that Kara reportedly tried to hug the cake, confusing it for her Nemo stuffed toy. If that isn't a true compliment, I don't know what is! Happy Birthday Kara!

Creative juices

Aloha! Our trip to the Big Island of Hawaii was a short but enjoyable escape from slushy Vancouver. With such diverse geology and biology in one BIG island, there was so much to explore. Highlights included the windy lava fields of Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, snorkelling in crystalline Kealakekua Bay, and stargazing at over 13,000 feet elevation on Mauna Kea. While in Hilo, we also visited the Mauna Loa Macadamia Nut Factory to purchase the requisite teal blue tins for friends and family. Meanwhile, I may have overdosed on pineapple juice during my stay but I needed all the Vitamin C available to me to nurse my cold.


With so much pineapple and macadamia nut surrounding me, I could not refrain from dreaming up dessert ideas with these two ingredients in mind. I had bought a pound of ground toasted unsalted macadamia nut which could be used in a million different ways but I decided to make macadamia nut financiers to be served with a roasted pineapple and mint salsa.


Next, I made macadamia nut roca which was crumbled to support a scoop of caramelized banana and Malibu rum ice cream. So good, I must admit. Finally, presented in a glass, my version of a "Shirley Temple" gelée (orange-pineapple juice with grenadine) contrasted with a creamy coconut milk pannacotta. To anyone out there who is biochemically inclined, fresh pineapple juice actually does not set with gelatin because of bromelain, a protease found in pineapples. Heating the juice first solves this enzymatic dilemma.


This impromptu plated dessert exercise also gave me an opportunity to pull out my souvenir glass from Pierre Hermé which previously contained his Sensation Satine. It seemed appropriate since this dessert was the finale to a Parisian themed night which I shared with a good friend (okay, more like Ratatouille the movie themed night). Whatever the excuse, it was a pleasure to get my creative juices flowing once again.

Unexpected inspiration

Despite having a typical bedtime of around 10 o'clock, I was kept awake several nights ago when the movie Babette's Feast began. This 1987 Danish film was captivating, although for the first 60 minutes, there is very little food or feasting to be seen. Instead, the majority of the film centres around two sisters, Martine and Phillipa, who are part of a strict Protestant village in remote Jutland. There is a great deal of praying and hymn singing. The focus on food and the sensuality of flavour brought by Babette, a French woman who seeks refuge in this rural community, serves as a stark contrast to this very austere setting. Without giving too much of the plot away, she is able to find solace and personal fulfillment in the preparation of a lavish dinner, celebrating her role as artist through the medium of food. Her culinary artistry, expressed so powerfully under such unfortunate personal circumstances, is even more inspiring and ignites long forgotten passions in Martine and Phillipa.

After watching Babette's Feast, it is difficult not to become empassioned about how food can be art. It is this creative drive that atrophied in me somewhere between high school and fellowship but hopefully, it has regenerated into something bigger and better.