Sunday, 20 November 2011

Picture Puzzle: can you guess what it is yet?

Yes, well, I'm sure the sharper-eyed among you managed to figure out it was a representation of penguins, with what looks like a whale's tail-fin poking out of some water.

What makes all this that little bit more special is that it's a cake. A birthday cake to be precise. My birthday cake. And it was made by my wife.

Here's how it looked early today in its natural setting:

Okay, I hear you say - it's an irregularly-shaped cake made to look like an iceberg floating in some water with some plastic penguins stuck on top.

But the most impressive thing of all is that every damned bit of it is hand-crafted - and every damned bit of it is edible!

Here's another view:

And - because it tickled me pink - a close-up:

Mrs. G has done lots of "special occasion" cakes of this sort for many people over the years (having started with an African Safari-themed wedding cake for a niece some twelve years ago) - all with themes close to the heart of the recipient. But this was the first full-blown one she's made for me (based on the BBC's enthralling Frozen Planet TV series) and was a complete surprise when it appeared this morning. I've been watching the most wonderful creations disappear out the door with pangs of jealousy for years - and taken many phone calls from ecstatic clients praising eulogising my wife's artistry afterwards. But now I've got one all to myself. Until it's been eaten of course, which, unfortunately, won't take long: I've had my first slice(s) and it tastes as good as it looks (the penguins are particularly yummy).

At the risk of sounding uxorious, my wife - who began adult life as a silversmith - is a very talented person.

Thank you, darling. Best birthday present I've ever had. 

1 comment:

  1. A regular commenter who for arcane technical reasons can't post a comment at the moment, emails to say "...what a fabulous cake. How on earth did she manage to bake it without your noticing? I have often been accused of being the least observant person in England but I think even I might have detected the odd sign - that baking smell, the residual traces of flour on the kitchen surfaces, the sudden appearance of extra packets of icing sugar - that something was afoot."

    My only excuse is that my wife often has a cake on the go and covers up whatever she's working on for hygiene and aesthetic reasons (i.e. she doesn't want the decorations to get grubby or to wind up poisoning someone). This time, for obvious reasons, she was more secretive than usual. I'm not generally an observant cove myself - but I usually keep a close eye on the cake-making process so I don't miss the chance to lick the bowl.