Falling

Usually, the design aspect of my cakes requires much more thought and planning than the actual cake itself. But this autumn inspired birthday cake was the opposite, mainly because there were three parameters which I had to follow. Any milk product used must be cooked; it must be eggless; it needed to travel a distance without refrigeration.


There were very few alternatives without the almighty egg and the exclusion of whipping cream ruled out any mousse, which would not travel well anyways. Luckily, this cake was for a family of chocoholics, which allowed me to combine an eggless chocolate cake (made with soft tofu) with a whipped dark chocolate ganache (cream is scalded first).


I was given one word as thematic inspiration, family, and this immediately led me to think about a family tree and then, autumn leaves. The scroll work and tree were crafted from milk chocolate modelling paste and the leaves were rolled fondant. Everything was brushed with gold dust. After finishing the cake, I had a brief panic attack when I realized I had used MILK chocolate modelling paste (for colour contrast against the dark chocolate ganache glaze) but concluded that milk chocolate contains milk powder and milk must be heated in order to pasteurize and evaporate into milk powder. Phew!

Happy days

Every October, our Thanksgiving dinner is hybridized with two birthday celebrations, my dad's and mine. Then last year, my niece Hayley had the foresight to enter the world on my birthday, making Thanksgiving a quadruple occasion, condensing one holiday and three birthdays into one single event. Turkey was rarely, if ever, on the menu; instead, good old fashioned Chinese food is typical fare.


This year, I threw together some leftovers into a birthday cake and decided that the best way to differentiate between the three celebrants was not by name, but rather by Chinese Zodiac animal. Luckily, Hayley, my dad, and I are different animals; Hayley is the Rat, my dad is the Monkey, and I am the Ox. Yes, I took a little creative license with the Ox and made it resemble a Holstein dairy cow but isn't it much cuter than a plain old ox? Happy Thanksgiving and Happy Birthdays!

True or false?

Depending on how traditional you are, the great debate on whether to have a real wedding cake versus a fake (a.k.a. display) wedding cake can sometimes be intense. These styrofoam-filled look-alikes are often misunderstood, treated as second class citizens of the cake world, labeled tacky or ostentatious. Personally, I love display cakes, having one for our wedding years ago before I was even in the pastry world. Perhaps I am biased now because of the advantages a display cake offers to me as a pastry professional.

A display cake is so easy to work with because it is lightweight and easy to transport, and without the need for refrigeration, it allows flexibility with timing when decorating. This is a huge bonus for me, my small kitchen, and work schedule. None of the guests would know the cake is fake anyways because a small section of real cake is hidden and incorporated into the back of the cake into which the bride and groom can cut and eat during their cutting ceremony.

The actual cake served to the guests can be made in slab form and does not need to be cakey and dense like a real tiered wedding cake must be for structural integrity. Flavours and textures can be diverse and customized. A slab cake can be pre-cut into neat and tidy pieces which are easily served in a timely fashion. For those brides and grooms who like the look of rolled fondant but can not imagine eating it, having a display cake with a real slab is the best of both worlds.


Luckily, Daniela and Marino are in favour of display cakes too and trusted me with the creation of their beautiful four-tiered square wedding cake this past weekend. Royal icing piping details gave the cake a simple elegance and the lovely double olive ribbon effect with sheer over satin was unintentional but highly successful. It was truly a joy to create. Congratulations Daniela and Marino!

Keep on truckin'

This Mack truck birthday cake was for a truck-obsessed little boy named Luke whose favourite colour is blue. Admittedly I did not know very much about big rigs prior to this cake, and not having any brothers, my exposure to 18-wheelers was only limited to passing them nervously on the highway or bad memories of long-distance moves gone awry.


So, now I know that tractor-trailers are indeed made of two parts, the front tractor which is also called the cab and the rear trailer which houses all the cargo. The eighteen wheels include two front steering wheels and eight more pairs of wheels at the front and rear of the trailer. I have now officially exhausted my knowledge of trucks.

This truck was constructed from one 10" x 15" x 3" slab cake made of chocolate cake and dark chocolate mousseline. This slab was cut first into a 10" x 5" x 3" piece and a 10" x 10" x 3" piece. Both pieces were then bisected into 5" wide pieces and stacked with cake board and dowels in order to form the front cab and rear trailer. Everything was masked, covered in rolled fondant, and airbrushed. Ultimately, the truck dimensions were 5" wide x 16" long x 6" high.

My favourite details are the eighteen Rice Krispie treat tires covered in fondant and the side mirrors, even though I realize that they were positioned much too low to be optically correct. Regardless, Luke reportedly gave me the ultimate compliment, calling the cake "perfect". Happy Birthday Luke!

Diversion: San Francisco

Over Labour Day weekend, Eric and I escaped to San Francisco for some relaxation, culinary exploration, and time with good friends who reside in the Bay Area. It was an opportunity to revisit the city which, inadvertently, has become woven into the misguided journey I took towards pediatric ophthalmology.

I was lucky in the past to spend two summers in the San Francisco Bay Area, first in 1996, and then in 2001. After receiving a grant from the American Pediatric Society, I spent six weeks, during the summer between 1st and 2nd year medical school, doing childhood lymphoma research at San Francisco General Hospital with an inspiring clinician scientist. Honestly, I think it was the best summer of my life, being independent for the first time in a dynamic city while being mentored by the first of many physicians whose passion for medicine seemed so limitless and contagious.

By the summer of 2001, two years of ophthalmology residency had passed and despite encounters with three ophthalmologists who were very influential in my professional life, I was struggling to emulate the passion for ophthalmology which they possessed and shared freely. In my naivety, my desire to have their passion became confused with my desire to pursue ophthalmology, leaving me intensely conflicted as I progressed through residency, unable to find any path which felt right. After spending the summer at an ophthalmology course in Stanford, the slow realization that I may never find that passion in ophthalmology culminated in my final excruciating decision to leave my pediatric ophthalmology fellowship in 2005.

And so, this visit to San Francisco was a strange intersection of my former medical aspirations and my new existence, especially because my ten year medical school reunion also happened to be scheduled for Labour Day weekend in Vancouver. Since I had neither an ophthalmology practice nor child to brag about, going to San Francisco was definitely the better choice.


In between window shopping and a day trip to Napa with friends, we had three favourite meals. The Slanted Door in the Ferry Building provided excellent service, a fabulous view, and a well-balanced modern Vietnamese lunch (try the grapefruit and jicama salad as well as the cellophane noodles with crab). Perbacco, an Italian ristorante recommended by a former San Franciscan (thanks Thahn!), was a highlight not only because of our dinner company, but also because of the divinely tender seared squid on arugula and the hearty handcut tagliatelle with pork sugo which I devoured.

Most memorably, we made the pilgrimage to Chez Panisse and ate upstairs rather than downstairs (I like having choice). This historical birthplace of California cuisine and the organic locavore movement was cozy and straight from the 1970's but the food was refined and current. The duck breast with fig relish on rocket was so intense and delicious. Then, the wild nettle pudding soufflé with corn, zucchini, and chanterelle mushrooms was so uncomplicated and pure in flavour. I could eat there every day.

I will always love San Francisco for many reasons, the diversity, the hippie spirit, even the odd weather. But mainly, I will always love San Francisco because it was where I was filled with so much promise and desire to find passion and direction in my career despite not truly knowing what I was meant to be passionate about. Perhaps I am still on my way to finding out and this visit is merely another breath of inspiration.

Ahoy

After the stress of last weekend, I was relieved to be back in familiar territory, within the realm of cute, colourful and creative. I know that I can do elegant and fancy but there is such comfort and joy in getting creative license to dream up something equally appealing to the eyes and stomachs of children and adults alike. For Isaac's birthday cake, I was given simply the theme "Pirates", shown the Evite and encouraged to just create. This is why I love what I do!

So, I carved the 9" round vanilla cake with chocolate mousseline to allow for appropriate topography in order to integrate a palm tree and buried treasure. This was masked and coated with toasted cake crumbs to resemble sand (an excellent and frugal way to use up leftover cake trimmings).

Rice Krispie treats were used to form the treasure chest and the head, torso, and legs of the pirate, and later covered with fondant. Adding some tylose powder to fondant, I used this pseudo-gum paste to craft the rest of the pirate paraphernalia and allowed everything to dry for several days before assembly.

The most delicate item was the palm tree which involved wiring each frond separately before inserting and securing them into a pre-made hole within the tree trunk. The most tedious item was the collection of tiny gold coins which were all cut out using my #802 piping tip, dried, and hand-painted with gold before individually glued onto the chest with royal icing.

I must mention my favourite items, the antique map (I burnt the edges with my blow torch) and the circling sharks lurking in the ocean. Although these two details were the simplest to make, they certainly add some whimsy that gives the overall cake more character, in my opinion. Happy Birthday Isaac!

Surviving perfectionism

After several days of introspection, I am ready to reflect on the happenings of Saturday August 22nd. This wedding cake was for my dear friend Nadia and her husband, Peter, a lovely couple with a preference for buttercream and a dislike of pretense. Although honoured to be trusted to create their wedding cake, I knew that, as a self-confessed perfectionist, completing the task to my standards would be only the first challenge; surviving the evening as a guest while witnessing people's reaction to the cake would be the second.

Buttercream is not as forgiving as fondant and despite my obsessive myopic focus on the imperfections, the four-tiered white and butter yellow centrepiece was, overall, pretty darn good. Adding fresh orchids to anything will make it look ten times better! Nadia and Peter had chosen the bright citrus flavours of lemon curd and mousseline, and mandarin orange, combined with vanilla cake and almond dacquoise. The actual wedding cake would produce 70 servings and the remaining 100 pieces were from a slab version. Thankfully, my boss let me do everything at work on my own time, alleviating any space restriction concerns which I had with Patricia's wedding cake.


As the evening progressed, I grew increasingly agitated watching the top tier of the cake (the only one without dowels) slowly bulge. By the time the caterers finally took away the cake, it had sat unrefrigerated for almost six hours, and was virtually unrecognizable as cake when served. In contrast, the pre-cut slab pieces were ice cold, served straight from the refrigerator. I think that I suffered a minor cardiac event when someone asked me, "Is it supposed to be frozen?", and temporary aphasia when everyone kept repeating "But it tastes great!" after trying either the brick hard or soft mush version of wedding cake.

It is easy to blame the caterers in this situation but should I have done something to prevent this? Should I have checked how cold their refrigerator was? Should I have taken the wedding cake back to the kitchen myself hours earlier? I had wanted to simply be a guest, not a pseudo-caterer, at my friend's wedding and had mindfully chosen to restrain the control-freak in me. But this decision to not micro-manage the wedding cake resulted in what I perceive to be my failure as much as the caterer's. And so, after several days of self-pity, I conclude that this has been a good learning experience, reinforcing my belief that being an unapologetic micro-manager is a good thing, and to try to never attend any event where my cakes are served!

PS. Congratulations Nadia & Peter...I'm happy if you're happy!