I was invited to a Mardi Gras party this past weekend. I was pretty excited because I don’t think I’ve ever been invited to a Mardi Gras party before! When my friend David invited me, he mentioned something about needing a King’s Cake. I had no f’in idea what the hell a King’s Cake was but of course that’s never stopped me before! I piped up, “I’ll make it!!!” This led to a flurry of googling for recipes and discussions with Dave regarding the baby to put into the cake. One place in town apparently sold the babies and since I couldn’t make it down there to get the baby, Dave had to get the baby. Then he mailed me the baby. When the baby arrived, I twittered him to thank him for mailing me the baby. This whole conversation makes me sound bat shit crazy BUT I GOT A BABY IN THE MAIL!! It was cool! Actually, he sent me two babies, so all the better.
It’s even creepier looking in person.
For those who don’t know, the baby goes into the cake. Apparently, the person who gets the baby in their slice and doesn’t choke to death on it, gets to make the cake for next year.
There are about a zillion King’s Cake recipes out there, but I went with my favorite website called Southern Food About. I like how they think–they get your attention with Southern Food and then, in case you were wondering, they add “About”. Like Yoda works there or some shit.
They offered me a number of recipes, but I decided on this one. That is some cool shit, isn’t it? VERY labor intensive, I might add. I followed the recipe exactly and here is what it looked like:
I know what you are thinking regarding the icing kind of dripping off the sides and let me just say that a) all you fuckers got dirty minds and b) I know because I was thinking the same thing! But it was good! And isn’t it pretty, with the colored sugars??? I think I did a good job!
Here’s the stinky part…we couldn’t make the party. Long story, but we couldn’t make it so I never got to eat my masterpiece. I assume that no one died of food poisoning though, and no one came to my house with pitchforks to poke me for making the cake, so I presume it’s all good.
Happy belated Mardi Gras! (That means Fat Tuesday in French. I know this because I got an A+ in French in college!)