Birthday cakes have become sort of a ‘thing’ in our household. I don’t know exactly when it started, but I take full responsibility for setting a precedence that birthday cakes are always home-made from scratch, personal to the recipient, and elaborate in some ridiculous way. For the most part I enjoy this, as I welcome a challenge and I take pride in learning new skills with fondant, decorations, design, flavour and art. At the same time, however, it stresses me out whenever a b-day occasion is on the horizon because, well, these things take time and that’s one thing I don’t exactly have a lot of these days. That said, the kids love submitting their creative thoughts and are actually quite helpful in coming up with suggestions for next Grand Gateau; albeit they do tend to forget that I can’t defy the laws of physics and I sometimes need to reject their more fantastical requests. What I am most impressed by with them, however, is that their excitement peaks when it comes to the design of someone else’s cake over their own. In particular, they’re Mom’s.
Alison’s birthday, to be clear, is two months away still; but in our household, the girls like to the celebrate their Mom’s birthday ‘season’ rather than just a single day event. So as soon as Spring arrives, the discussions begin for how we can best celebrate and represent the love for their mother by way of baked goods. This year, in particular, has brought with it a level of fanfare of regalia, as a milestone is crossed, and so of course whatever design is agreed upon must also match the same level of hype. This is all well and good, of course, and I love to celebrate my caring and a loving partner at every opportunity, but this also means that every time I’m with them alone – be it Daddy daughter nights, driving in the car, or my regular evening walks for the past month and a half have shifted their focus away from “what movie are we going to pick?” or the philosophical and reflective musings we typically banter about, to lessons and exercises in patience as I try to explain that “sorry kiddo, we can’t start baking the cake just yet.”
“How was school today, kiddo?”
“It was good. I made some new friends, read some new books, went on a field trip, I have a crush on a new boy. But anyway, about Mom’s cake. I have ideas…”
I’d like to be clear about something here: contrary to what this post suggests thus far I am not a fantastic cake artist, nor am I a particularly great baker. I’ve always fancied myself more as a cook than a scientist in the kitchen, though I enjoy trying and testing myself to learn more. The kids, I’ll admit and accept however, see me as some type of magical wizard when it comes to the practice, and of course I’ll soak that in as long as I possibly can; which may not be much longer, as they’ve taken a particular interest in watching shows like ‘Is It Cake’ and ‘Cake Boss’ on Netflix. They are certainly entertaining shows, but unfortunately the kids look at those creations on TV, turn to me and say “Dad can you make that 7-foot replica of the Eiffel Tower for my next birthday please!?”
They are excited to celebrate their Mom, and I frankly don’t blame them; she’s well-worth celebrating. Though we are months away, Nora has gone so far as to even start practicing her fondant work (the details of which I can’t spoil just yet, for worry my loving bride may read this and catch on to the plan!). I am both impressed and proud of this desire to create something special for her Mom, all the while developing and honing her skills in the kitchen. She has a clear and strong passion for the arts, and this is certainly a great and delicious output for feeding and exploring that interest further. As she works away on her skills, I can’t help but think of who she might become as she grows older.
In my mind’s eye, perhaps around the age of 18, she decides to fully embrace this whole thing, as she takes her artistic passion abroad to study patisserie in Paris, where, each Summer during her studies, she will invite her parents and sister to come and stay so that she can show off the hidden gems of the city with pride. While there she will continue to fall in love with art, culture, food and people, so much so that, once she ‘graduates’ from wherever apprenticeship she accepted, she will opt for further travel and start exploring the infinite pallet of Earth (continuing to include her parents and sister of course), until she reaches a point where she feels she’s seen and learned enough to become ‘The Teacher’, which is when she’ll return to her roots and start racking up Michelin Stars in a restaurant/art gallery that is founded on the understanding that people are people: deserving of respect, balance and fair compensation for what they do. She will lead with compassion, empathy and growth. There would be no mandatory overtime or 14-hour shifts. There would be no prejudice. There would be respect all people who enter. There would be respect for the environment and places that give themselves over to us. There would be food and it would be accessible. There would be laughter and a sense of play. She would invite other artists to share her space because, as she has learned: creativity needs inspiration, support, and community. She, in turn, would inspire the generations ahead, behind, and around her to embrace each other rather than judge each other. Yes, it would be something, and perhaps that’s a dream for another dreamer.
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