My daughter called me last night. She's getting married in October, arrangements are well in hand and I thought I'd escaped with a fairly light load. I've bought the suit, speech to write and find an excuse to duck out of the stag party arrangements (I'm really not suited to a weekend of boozing and white water rafting
).
Now she has ordered that I make her Wedding Cake. They don't want a fruit cake - he doesn't like fruit cake. Chocolate cake is out - chocolate triggers her migrane. She wants the same cake I made for her eighteenth birthday, a hazlenut meringue layered with praline, fresh cream and raspberries.
This is not an easy cake to make. Made too soon and the meringue softens. The raspberries react with the cream and can make the cake soggy, hell, the cream can make the cake soggy. And she wants it tiered and only enough for 100 guests. I knew I wouldn't get away with it
On the other hand, it will be an honour and pleasure to make it for her, I'm a proud Pop.

Now she has ordered that I make her Wedding Cake. They don't want a fruit cake - he doesn't like fruit cake. Chocolate cake is out - chocolate triggers her migrane. She wants the same cake I made for her eighteenth birthday, a hazlenut meringue layered with praline, fresh cream and raspberries.
This is not an easy cake to make. Made too soon and the meringue softens. The raspberries react with the cream and can make the cake soggy, hell, the cream can make the cake soggy. And she wants it tiered and only enough for 100 guests. I knew I wouldn't get away with it

On the other hand, it will be an honour and pleasure to make it for her, I'm a proud Pop.