We recently celebrated a friend's 40th birthday. I've made many cakes for 40th birthdays and every time I add the 40, there's a sharp intake of air and then it's slowly whistled out with a, "wowwww... 40", and then I abruptly stop breathing when I realize that I will be turning 40 in April. It's kind of funny. But not really. I can't stop it from happening, but I have a plan to kick 40 in the face. I'll share that with you soon. Anyway, back to this cake...
When I got the invitation, I asked (as I tend to do), "can I bring a cake?!". I've never been declined on that offer.
The deal with these cakes, though, is that you're not going to know what you're getting. I will ask (if I don't know) for some personal details, likes, and interests and then will create based on that information (and my interpretation of that information). Those are the rules. (No one argues.)
So, I ask his wife for some info and she says he loves his boat and his motorcycle. The ass cake would also work too because he likes nice butts! So, Paul and I are driving to Cape Breton and I start rambling about cake ideas for this 40th birthday. The conversation kind of went like this (Paul asking questions, me replying):
"Well, you could make a cake shaped like a boat." - Been there, done that, bought the tshirt. Can't be something I've done before.
"How about a motorcycle?" - Must I remind you that this is a gift?
"Okay, I give up. But whatever you decide, I think you should put Melanie (wife) on there in some way, cause we all know who wears the pants in that relationship." - (oopsie... did I just use my outside voice?).
I think I talked to myself, throwing ideas around, from the airport to at least Antigonish (about 2 hrs). Remember the puzzles where there are little squares in a bigger square and you can't take the pieces out but you can slide them around? That's kind of how my brain works when I'm designing a cake: Yes. Yes. No. No. Back up. Throw it down. Pick it up again. Success. Once all the pieces came together, I decided on a tropical theme (selfishly, because I'm so effing sick of this winter), with his boat anchored off "nice butt islands".
Happy 40th Birthday, Chuck!