There is a er, funny (depending on which side of the cake you were standing) story to go with this cake. Remember how I asked if one could die of embarrassment a few weeks back??
I've put it underneath the photos as it's rather long winded and a bit sweary.
This is Daragh's christening cake. Daragh, 1 R, had an 8" lemon cake to celebrate his big day. I was delighted to make it as we had made his mum and dad's wedding cakes a few years ago. Happy days.
I posted this on a cake forum I'm a member of as I knew they'd get it. So today I delivered my Tim Burton cake to Maynooth and came home with Darren (the husband). Pottered around and then went to shop to think about dinner for tomorrow.
Oscar rang. "Colm just rang about his cake. He's wondering are you on your way?"
Turns out the cake I thought was for delivery tomorrow, on my way into town with Gruncle Bill is for TODAY!
Legged it home, met Darren at top of the road and we booted to Clontarf.
Arrived just in time for dessert. Saw customer and FELL. IN. FRONT. OF. HIM. AND!!!!!!!! Dropped the effing cake in the process.
Yup, not only was I late, I killed the bloody cake.
I picked myself up, asked where the kitchen was, limped off and began reassembling the bloody eddies that I had managed to break as I threw the cake on the ground. I broke the bow on the cake and destroyed the little boys name, Daragh, and .. yeah. It was a fecking disaster.
Colm, my client and Daragh's dad, kept trying to reassure me (as I bled) that these things happen and "sure, the baby won't remember". I replied that, whilst it will make a fantastically funny story one day, right now I was mortified, horrified and beyond embarrassed. Told him I wasn't sure what was upsetting me more. The forgetting the date was today NOT tomorrow or arriving and throwing the cake at him.
He asked if I needed a hug and I said yes. I said yes?????? I stood in front of him and cried into his pristine white shirt. I'm blushing just thinking of it. I was so upset the client gave me a big hug and told me I was wonderful and I'd always produced great cakes for them and he was sure I'd do it again in the future but ................. fucking hell.
So, in short, I was nearly a day late. Managed to be just two hours late but then fell over in front of client, in front of restaurant staff, in front of ALL the guests and killed the cake.
p.s. if you wish to assemble the most maniacal looking teddy ever all you need is a pen, borrowed from a waiter, a glass of water, a spoon and a knife.
p.p.s. In trying to save the cake I cut my wrist, bruised both wrists, knees, elbows and chin and cut my knee.
p.p.p.s. I think you can die from embarrassment NO MATTER WHAT ANYONE ELSE SAYS.
What makes it worse is, I came home and decided, on Geraldine's advice, to have a bath, ice the knee/wrists/elbows and allow myself to get over it all. I ran the hot water and ended up with about three inches of the stuff. Eldest son had used it all. So yours truly sat, crying, in a bloody puddle. For an hour. I sat in cold water for an hour, puce in the face with mortificatiion and cold of arse.
Oscar rang. "Colm just rang about his cake. He's wondering are you on your way?"
Turns out the cake I thought was for delivery tomorrow, on my way into town with Gruncle Bill is for TODAY!
Legged it home, met Darren at top of the road and we booted to Clontarf.
Arrived just in time for dessert. Saw customer and FELL. IN. FRONT. OF. HIM. AND!!!!!!!! Dropped the effing cake in the process.
Yup, not only was I late, I killed the bloody cake.
I picked myself up, asked where the kitchen was, limped off and began reassembling the bloody eddies that I had managed to break as I threw the cake on the ground. I broke the bow on the cake and destroyed the little boys name, Daragh, and .. yeah. It was a fecking disaster.
Colm, my client and Daragh's dad, kept trying to reassure me (as I bled) that these things happen and "sure, the baby won't remember". I replied that, whilst it will make a fantastically funny story one day, right now I was mortified, horrified and beyond embarrassed. Told him I wasn't sure what was upsetting me more. The forgetting the date was today NOT tomorrow or arriving and throwing the cake at him.
He asked if I needed a hug and I said yes. I said yes?????? I stood in front of him and cried into his pristine white shirt. I'm blushing just thinking of it. I was so upset the client gave me a big hug and told me I was wonderful and I'd always produced great cakes for them and he was sure I'd do it again in the future but ................. fucking hell.
So, in short, I was nearly a day late. Managed to be just two hours late but then fell over in front of client, in front of restaurant staff, in front of ALL the guests and killed the cake.
p.s. if you wish to assemble the most maniacal looking teddy ever all you need is a pen, borrowed from a waiter, a glass of water, a spoon and a knife.
p.p.s. In trying to save the cake I cut my wrist, bruised both wrists, knees, elbows and chin and cut my knee.
p.p.p.s. I think you can die from embarrassment NO MATTER WHAT ANYONE ELSE SAYS.
What makes it worse is, I came home and decided, on Geraldine's advice, to have a bath, ice the knee/wrists/elbows and allow myself to get over it all. I ran the hot water and ended up with about three inches of the stuff. Eldest son had used it all. So yours truly sat, crying, in a bloody puddle. For an hour. I sat in cold water for an hour, puce in the face with mortificatiion and cold of arse.
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