My First King Cake
My office ordered two king cakes last week under the guise of needing them for a co-worker’s going-away party but actually because I’ve always wanted to try them. The first king cakes were introduced to the southern U.S. by French and Spanish settlers and were originally associated with Christmas but are now traditional in Mardi Gras celebrations. Which makes sense, considering how indulgent they are.
A southern co-worker recommended Paul’s Pastry Shop as the source for an authentic king cake, and the going-away girl choose a lemon over cream cheese and a chocolate Bavarian. I spent the week before they arrived telling everyone we were going to have cake made of baby, because a tiny plastic doll is stuck into the cake post-baking and is said to provide good luck to whoever finds it in their slice.
When we opened up the cake box, we thought it was a lump of unbaked dough, but it turns out that an undecorated king cake is just sort of ugly. Luckily, bags of icing and sprinkles were provided, along with Mardi Gras beads to use as payment for boob-baring. Or, since my office is full of men, manboob-baring.
Jack dons the provided gloves–a little freaky, right?–and prepares to ice the cake.
Ash goes for decorative swirls, but we figure out later that Jeff’s way of just slopping it on in a straight line makes for better coverage and easier hand-spreading.
Nik, it turns out, has no future in cake-decorating.
The finished product!
Dripping with icing and caked in layers of sprinkles, it was a diabetic’s worst nightmare. The cake itself was mostly a thick, sweet bread with the tiniest layer of lemon preserves or chocolate spread and a layer of cream cheese baked into it, and it was good, but it wasn’t the sort of super-moist cake we usually go for in the U.S.
The best part was the way the icing collected in pools around the edges of the pan and began to harden. Some people acted grossed out when I spooned the extra icing onto slices of the cake, and those people are no longer my friends.
Jack, the cake slicer, isn’t so pleased with the Valentine’s Day decorations that arrived with one of the cakes.
It was clear to Jack in slicing the first cake which piece the baby was in, so of course he took that piece for himself.
After licking the baby clean, Jack threw his away, but
Steve, who found the baby in the second cake, proved to be a doting caregiver.
Happy Fat Tuesday!
6 Comments
Tracey
I laughed SO hard when I got to the last picture. Steve looks like such a proud Papa to that teeny baby he easily could have swallowed.
And now, I will feel the need to put little plastic babies in all of my food before cooking. Watch out the next time you come to visit.
Bruce
I’m kinda glad I don’t have to work with you. But for the record I used to date a girl named “Baby Cakes” but I never ate … never mind.
Jack
Hey, how did Ash get two bead necklaces .. actually .. don’t answer that question ..
megan
Mmm. King Cakes are so delicious. We had one for our Super Bowl party (the first time I’d ever tried one), and now they’re my new favorite thing.
We had an almond and an original (which is sort of cinnamony). I totally recommend the original, if you get a chance to have another.
I want to check out the cream cheese and chocolate. Saw them at the store yesterday when I was doing some shopping–resisted the urge to buy one, and now after reading your post, I think I might just HAVE to go get one. I’ll send you the bill for my gym this month. :)
Heesa Phadie
“Dripping with icing and caked in layers of sprinkles, it was a diabetic’s worst nightmare…”
Or in other words…my dreams! I’ve yet to enjoy a King Cake but oddly I’ve been to New Orleans a number of times and it is one of my favorite cities. What’s wrong with me? I need to get on that. Paul’s Pasty Shop here I come.
Bachelor Girl
Louisiana girl though I am, I really don’t care for king cakes. They’re usually too dry for my taste. Give me a big hunk of chocolate cake with two inches of frosting any day.