It was my cousin’s eighteenth birthday and my wedding day. Hustle and bustle, moving in every direction, my mind a jumbled mess. The ceremony was a formality, that’s all, I told myself. Go through the motions – the church, the exchange of vows and rings, rice-throwing, and exit to the reception via the sleek, shiny black convertible – that’s where the real fun begins.
The reception was the celebration with fun friends and wild dancing. But the sentimental showstopper was Granny’s masterpiece. The gorgeous, multi-tiered wedding cake was covered in handmade icing flowers she spent many hours creating. Purple, teal, and white sugary petals made for a visual delight. Granny added flair by including her unique cake fountain between the round bottom tier and the tier above.
There was so much work that went into the assembly of a tower like this. So many times before, when I helped her set up other couples’ wedding cakes, I remember carefully placing two-inch wooden dowel rods into the bottom layer of moist cake to bear the weight of the columns holding up the layers above. It was a science, actually. Now, as I stood beside my own wedding cake, I understand the meticulous planning and setup that had to be done to pull off a cake of this magnitude. I loved Granny for making it so special, so gorgeous.
My husband and I sliced the first piece to feed one another as cameras caught the event, only to be surprised moments later by flames from the candles on an extra cake no one knew existed. Granny surprised us all with my cousin Corey’s birthday cake. After all, how could an infamous cake baker let the opportunity slide?
The crowd sang the traditional birthday tune in unison, adding a layer to the party we hadn’t predicted. Both cakes tasted like love, straight from Granny’s heart.
This was written by our contributing writer, Nina Graue.
Image Source: Pexels, Johnathan Borba
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