the IDIOT QUEST TASTE EXPLOSION

I made this cake for Madeline about six months ago when she came home from Israel for a couple of weeks. I remember that we went out to eat with her family at the Indian place on Grand Avenue, and the restaurant was nice enough to let us serve this Star of David-embellished creation at the end of our meal. This cake is very multi-cultural, as it is actually my famous tres leches cake (Latin America!) with just a touch of David’s shield (Um, Jews!). Also, in the above photo you can get a glimpse of the table in the background; it’s full of random garbage and mail.  Presentation is an integral part of food photography.

Here it is from the top. Part of my really wants to go into joke cake making for a living. But then I think: What would Amy Sedaris do? And I realize: She would do that. So I’ve decided: I’m going to make joke cakes for a living. Sorry, amazing new job, there are joke cakes to be made. And with the global marketplace and the Web 2.0 I’m sure my joke cake business will take off in a snap, right, Jay M. Boller?

Here’s an example of a joke cake. This one’s not really my style, because, you see, I’m not tacky. I do enjoy the contrast of image and traditional decoration, but am freaked out by the photo’s title, “funny and sexy cake.” I also don’t want to be the kind of cake maker who bakes for hours and hours with the singular goal of making the cake look like, I dunno, a ham:

That’s just a turn off. Sure you may get a chuckle, but it’s not a Star of David cake. The humor in my cakes will be subtle, nuanced, varied. PhD students will one day study my cakes, disassemble their layers of meaning, and come up with their own completely wrong interpretations of my cakes.

Now this is a cake. Surprising, yet inevitable, this sweet inspires with its chubby limbs and dedication to creepiness. I especially enjoy the details: cutesy ruffles around the bulging arms and legs, darling flowers decorating the child’s rotund backside. One can only hope that the doll can still coo on demand. “DADA,” the cake cries as you bite into its moist center.