For the first several years of my training as a cake decorator, I used an icing composed primarily of Crisco and powdered sugar. And I’ve gotta admit, for someone decorating 1-2 practice cakes (and in later years, simply styrofoam cake forms) every month, there was nothing better: it’s snow white, doesn’t take long to bring to room temperature, holds it’s shape  and consistency even as it gets warm in the piping bag, and seemingly never spoils.

That icing served me well for a long time. But as I grew older I started to grow wary of the mysterious ingredients in Crisco, and the gritty texture of the powdered sugar irritated me more and more. I started to think perhaps it was time to up my game in the icing department. And it only took a teensy bit of digging around the cake-baking community to know that I needed to learn, above all other things, the art of Swiss Meringue Buttercream.

And boy am I glad I did. Each batch I make reaffirms my obsession with this icing: impossibly smooth and creamy, light and airy, shiny and stable, and delicately sweet. It freezes well, so it can be made in large batches even if you only have a small cake to bake. Because the sugar is dissolved, there is no grittiness whatsoever. It’s stable once applied, gives strength to your cakes, and is gorgeous enough to be used as an outer icing with no need for fondant. Plus, it can be adapted to just about any flavor you want.

I’ve now used this buttercream for two wedding cakes, a birthday cake, cookie icing, cupcake icing, and dinner party cakes. It’s extremely versatile and soooo tasty.

So today, I want to share it with you. And it’s not scary! Though it is a bit time-consuming, it’s pretty straight-forward to make. So let’s dive in and make some SMBC!

The first step is to gather your equipment. A stand mixer (I’m sure you could do this with a hand mixer, but it would be a LOT more work), a whisk, a food scale, and a candy thermometer are the primary tools you’ll need that you may not already have. You’ll also need some measuring spoons and a small pot, but we’ll get to those in a minute.

Daub some white vinegar on a paper towel or napkin and wipe down the mixer bowl, the whisk attachment, the whisk, and the candy thermometer. You’ll be using them all to create the meringue, and meringue doesn’t create very well if any grease is on your equipment. Best to make sure, or you may not end up with a strong meringue for a base of your icing.

Next, gather your ingredients. It’s a simple list: egg whites, granulated sugar, vanilla, salt, and of course, a lot of butter. A lot. Now as you can see, I use bottled egg whites (not to be confused with Egg Beaters). It turns out that one pint is the exact amount needed for a batch that perfectly fills my mixer bowl. I’ve heard some people say that bottled egg whites don’t create a strong enough meringue for SMBC, but I’ve been perfectly happy with the results of these. If you want to use fresh egg whites, you’ll need the whites of 15-16 eggs.

To measure out the sugar, it’s significantly easier to measure by weight. If you don’t already have one, a food scale is a GREAT investment for your kitchen. You can zero out the scale with the mixer bowl already on top, and easily add your 750 grams.

Once the sugar is measured out, add the egg whites and candy thermometer to the mixing bowl. You can set them aside for now.

Next, it’s time to chop all that butter – all 10 sticks – into pieces. I generally go with pieces about a tablespoon in size. The butter should still be cold at this point. By the time you’ve made your meringue, it will be about room temperature when you add it to the icing. Make sure you don’t take your butter out of the fridge too early, or it will be too soft to make good icing. Once you’ve chopped up all the butter, set it near your mixer and turn back to the sugar and egg whites. It’s time to begin cooking!

Pour about an inch of water into the bottom of a small pot and place it on the stove. You don’t need much, in fact, you won’t want the bottom of the mixer bowl to touch the water. This is called a bain marie, which basically means a pot of simmering water. Set the mixer bowl onto the pot and turn on the stove to medium-high. Once the heat is on, whisk constantly until the mixture reaches 160°F.

Once the mixture has reached 160°F, remove the candy thermometer and transfer the mixer bowl immediately to the mixer. Attach the whisk attachment and beat on medium (about a 4 on the Kitchen-Aid) for 2-3 minutes, then increase to high speed (all the way up!) You’ll whip the meringue for about 15-20 minutes until stiff peaks form and the sides of the bowl have cooled to slightly above body temperature.

Now what you have is a beautiful and delicious meringue! And this would be good to eat all on it’s own. But! We have quite a lot of butter to add, so onward and forward. Shake and scrape off any meringue that is on the whisk attachment and swap it out for the paddle attachment. Begin mixing at medium speed and start adding butter, one cube at a time, allowing each cube to be mixed in before adding the next. I usually wait about five seconds between each one.

As you add butter, the meringue will begin to deflate and look thin. This is normal, just keep adding butter.

Once you’ve added all the butter, don’t be discouraged if your icing doesn’t look, well, right. The photo above has all the butter added, but the mixture still looks rather disgusting. But now is the time for the true magic of SMBC to occur. Be patient and just keep whipping that icing, and you’ll watch it transform from something resembling curdled milk to shiny, creamy buttercream.

After a few more seconds, the icing will begin to look even worse. But be patient! It’s almost time!

Suddenly, magic! I urge you not to look away during the final seconds of whipping the icing, it really is fun to watch it come together.

Once the icing has reached this consistency, it’s time to add vanilla and salt, as well as additional flavors.

A word on vanilla: I love using real vanilla extract whenever possible. But as you can see, real vanilla extract will DEFINITELY affect the color of your icing. As it is butter-based, you’ll never have pure white icing when making SMBC, but using real vanilla extract will give an even stronger ivory tint. When I want a lighter, whiter icing, I use clear vanilla flavoring instead.

However you color or flavor your icing, there is really very little you can do to make this unappealing. Holy mother buttercream.

Now beyond making the icing itself, here are a few extra tips I’ve learned about Swiss Meringue Buttercream:

Spreading/Base Frosting
SMBC can be spread with a knife or easily piped. For spreading, make sure you have more icing than you’ll actually want on the final cake. It’s always easier to smooth your icing by having the ability to scrape some off rather than trying to work with a minimal amount. Slather it on thick and then remove the extra as you smooth.

Piping
Though it’s not quite as easy as the Crisco-based icing I learned with, SMBC does pipe very well. The biggest tip I can offer is not to fill your piping bag very full. Because it is butter-based, the heat from your hands can melt the icing a little too much. I’ve found that this not only affects the texture, but the color. Start with small amounts in your piping bag, and it doesn’t hurt to make sure your hands aren’t too hot!

Storing
I love using this icing the same day I make it, but it can also definitely be stored. Store in an airtight container in the fridge for up to three weeks, or up to three months in the freezer. When you’re ready to use your stored icing, make sure you allow plenty of time for it to come to room temperature before you use it. If you’ve frozen your icing, let it thaw in the fridge overnight and then remove it from the fridge 3-4 hours before you want to actually use it. Even at room temperature, you may need to re-whip the icing with the paddle attachment for a few minutes.

Swiss Meringue Buttercream
Adapted from Sweetapolita

Makes about 15 cups, enough to ice and fill two 8-inch, three-layer cakes

750 g sugar, about 4 cups
1 pint/450 g liquid egg whites, about 15-16 egg whites
10 sticks  (2.5 pounds) unsalted butter
2 T vanilla extract
1/4 tsp salt

Lightly wipe the bowl of a stand mixer, a whisk, and the mixer whisk attachment with white vinegar to remove all traces of grease. Measure sugar into the mixer bowl using a food scale. Add the egg whites to the sugar and position the candy thermometer into the mixer bowl. Set aside. Cut butter into cubes about one tablespoon in size and set near the standing mixer so that the butter can come to room temperature while you prepare the meringue.

Add about an inch of water to a small pot. Place the mixer bowl onto the pot and place the pot on the stove over medium-high heat. Whisk the mixture constantly until it reaches 160°F. Remove the candy thermometer and place the mixer bowl on the standing mixer. Use the whisk attachment and whip until mixture is thick, glossy, and the outside of the bowl is only slightly warmer than body temperature, about 15-20 minutes. Switch over to the paddle attachment and turn to medium speed. Add butter one cube at a time about five seconds apart, allowing each to mix in.

Once all the butter is incorporated, increase speed to medium-high and whip until the icing is a silky, smooth texture. It will look curdled along the way, but keep whipping! Once it has reached that silky texture, add vanilla and salt and mix well.

If desired, add a few drops of icing color to tint the icing.

Flavor Variations
Here are a few variations on flavor that I’ve tried. There are, of course, countless others.

Espresso Buttercream: For every 5 cups of buttercream, combine 2 tablespoons of hot water and 1 1/2 tablespoons of instant espresso in a small bowl. Add to buttercream and whip until thoroughly combined.

Raspberry Buttercream: For every 5 cups of buttercream, add 1 c fresh raspberries and mix until desired coloring is achieved.

Blackberry Buttercream: For every 5 cups of buttercream, add 2 c fresh blackberry puree and mix well.

Almond Buttercream: Substitute 1 T almond extract for one of the tablespoons of vanilla extract in the last step.

Previously:
Part I: A Prologue
Part II: Um, So, What Are We Doing?
Part III: To Do
Part IV: Testing 1, 2, 3
Part V: The Home Stretch

Welcome to the last of my six-part series about the trials, tribulations, and triumphs of baking a wedding cake. Last Tuesday, I flew to Colorado to attend a hen party, participate in the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner, stand up as a bridesmaid, and last but not least, to bake a groom’s cake and a wedding cake for Sierra, my best friend of 15 years, and her fiancé husband, Sean.

It was quite a whirlwind trip.

This was also the first time I’ve made a trip to Colorado since leaving for college eight years ago that coincided with luscious autumn colors glazing the mountains and meadows of home. The scene was nothing short of breathtaking.

But you’re probably not here for my photos of leaf-peeping and coasting down Hesperus Hill. I’ll wager you wanna see some dang cake!

Let me be clear: it is no small thing to bake not only one but two major cakes for an occasion such as this. My alarm clock jangled menacingly each morning before 8am, and I didn’t hit the pillow before midnight a single night that I was home. Two KitchenAids hummed merrily along for batch after batch of cake batter and Swiss meringue buttercream icing, and it’s possible that the oven was on for nine hours straight on Wednesday. There was so much cake that my dad conveniently installed an extra freezer in the family room for the week to chill them.

That, my friends, is what 18 layers scratch-made cake looks like.

Once those suckers were baked and frozen, it was time to build the groom’s cake! Sierra & Sean requested that the groom’s cake appear at the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding, so I hacked and chopped and iced and stacked together several layers of cake to build them a towering confection based on Minecraft, one of their favorite video games to play together. Complete with “lava” buried deep within and a Minecrafted “cake” on top (meta, I know), it came off without a hitch! I did dye half of the guests mouths black with the “cobblestone” sections, but what can you do?

Once the groom’s cake was complete, it was on to the final act. The big kahuna. A cake that, when all what said and done, probably weighed at least sixty pounds. Each tier boasted three layers of cake separated by two layers of scrumptious filling and was enrobed in a thick layer of Swiss meringue buttercream. After a bumpy ride up to the ranch (try driving on gravel mountain roads with three cakes in the back of your car), a bit of maintenance, and some floral flourishes to match the centerpieces, the cake was ready!

Ta da!

From there, I abandoned my camera. I wish I had a shot of Sierra & Sean cutting the cake, or the caterers man-handling this thing into pieces, or the guests enjoying bites of pumpkin cake. But I don’t. I spent the evening enjoying the wedding, the company of dear friends, and the cool night air of the Colorado mountains in October.

And as for the recipes Well there’s no way I’m gonna leave you empty-handed there. Rather than retype PAGES of recipes, I’ve included below the mega-document I used throughout the week, complete with high altitude alterations due to the fact that I was baking these cakes at 7300 feet above sea level.

Cake Master Guide

It’s been quite an adventure! Beginning last fall with conversations about concepts, moving through the spring and summer full of recipe testing and design, and finally concluding with a 5-day baking extravaganza in Colorado, I’m thrilled that I was able to give such a gift to such wonderful friends. To the newlyweds, Sierra & Sean, I wish you all of the best! And we’re totally not baking anything next time I visit.

Friends, it’s wedding cake time!

After several months of, design and re-design, recipe hunting, cake baking, flavor testing, and technique practicing, I’ve arrived in Colorado to do the real thing. Though the next few days will be long, busy, and full of butter, I’m really quite thrilled to be here. I haven’t seen October in Colorado since my senior year of high school, and it sure is something to see. We don’t have the red sugar maples of the east coast, but golden aspens against evergreens and snow-capped peaks are truly breathtaking. I hope I have at least one evening to take a drive through the mountains and enjoy some Colorado autumn.

But the priority this week is cake. Monday night found me bustling around my apartment packing what may be the strangest looking luggage I’ve ever compiled. In addition to my standard jeans, t-shirts, and socks, I’ve packed 10 cake pans, a quart of pecans, a case of decorating tips, piping bags, a bridesmaids dress, three options for shoes to wear with said dress (I may end up using all three, who knows), two antique glass insulators, four cake knives, one cake layer slicer, a box of parchment paper, two tubes of raspberry filling, a Lazy Susan, a cake turner, a jar of ginger, a roll of blue cellophane, a tripod, a pack of paintbrushes, gum paste, almond paste, vanilla bean paste, and a few other odds and ends that I’ll need to make this cake happen.

Upon my arrival, my mom and I made a major grocery run for the ingredients I will need to actually put all that crap in my bags to good use. On any other occasion, the contents of the cart would be somewhat horrifying. But to any bakers out there, I wager this is a familiar, albeit excessive, sight to see.

The equipment is ready, the ingredients are purchased, and here I am, baking again in the kitchen I’ve known for most of my life. Having supported two young cake decorators for about ten years, this room has seen its fair share of baked cakes, buttercream icing, and greasy dishes. Many a mangled decorating tip has been pulled from the garbage disposal, and many a tear has been shed in anguish over icing that simply wouldn’t smooth and delicate rows of piped shells destroyed by the occasional rogue air bubble. I hope that that week, there will not be tears (though I will breathe easier, surely, once the cakes are baked and all high altitude cave-in fears are allayed) and I’m certainly not looking forward to the dishes, but it is a special treat to bake this cake, the best wedding gift I can think to give to my closest friend, in the place where I learned this art in the first place.

So without further ado, adieu! I’ll see you on the other side of this big, buttery week.

Previously:
Part I: A Prologue
Part II: Um, So, What Are We Doing?
Part III: To Do

I’ve spent the last two months baking inordinately large quantities of cake to prepare for the wedding cake I begin baking in t-minus ten days. The flavors of fall permeated my apartment long before the weather did as I tested recipes for sugared pecans, maple cream filling, pumpkin cake, almond cake, and more. Thankfully, I work at a university with a veritable army of cake-loving, high-metabolism college students ready to sample these cakes as they positively burst from my kitchen.

I must admit, overall, I’ve been pretty lucky with first attempts. I, and all of my faithful testers, were over the moon for the very first pumpkin cake recipe I tested, along with the experimental maple cream filling that went with it. I’d already made the almond cake, so I really didn’t need much adjustment there, and a vanilla cake that will compose the tiny top layer (for guests with nut allergies!) was easy enough. There were, however some unfortunate discoveries.

Having gained a pretty decent handle on Swiss Meringue Buttercream, I thought I’d try swapping out some of the butter for some cream cheese to see if I could create an easy Cream Cheese Swiss Meringue Buttercream (ack, too many words.) Welllllll. It was kinda awful. The icing ended up far too runny. In fact it was barely spreadable. One could discern the tiniest hints of cream cheese, but it was certainly not worth the loss of stability. We’ll be sticking with the basic. Which is mighty delicious all on its own. I decorated cakes for seven years as a kid, and I find myself seriously shocked that I’ve only started making this icing in the last year. It’s beyond delectable.

The next moment of frustration arose when I was practicing the “alpine panoramic landscapes” that will adorn each tier of the main cake. After a few awkward looking peaks, I finally got the mountains to look the way I had imagined them: craggy, rough, possibly harboring snow in crevasses and canyons. Then for the foreground, I tested out some pine trees. They were… awkward. Sierra mentioned they “looked a bit shaggy”. I think they looked like Muppet outcasts. Then, bizarrely, the longer I worked with the icing, the more yellow it became. It seems like I’ll need to work with teeny tiny amounts in my piping bag when I do the real cake so that the trees don’t like like Muppet outcasts covered in urine. Needless to say, there’s more tree practice in my future this week.

Perhaps the biggest failure, however, came with my technique test for the groom’s cake, which will be served at the rehearsal dinner the evening prior to the wedding. The cake will create a tiny, edible version of one of Sean’s favorite video games called Minecraft (for those of you who know it, there will also be a Minecrafted cake ON the cake… how meta.) I had this grand theory involving cake blocks, essentially cube-shaped cake balls, so that guests could simply pick up a cube and eat it, and “mine” away the cake. Cute right?

The basic premise of the cake ball seems simple enough: bake a cake, let it cool, tear it to shreds and beat it into crumbs, mix in some icing to form a dough, and roll it into balls to dip into melted chocolate that cools and forms a shell. I made a short leap to making blocks instead… shouldn’t it work just as well to press the dough into a square cake pan and cut it into cubes?

I wish I had a photo of the horror that ensued. The dough pressed into the square pan just fine. It came out of the pan just fine. But it did not harden as I had anticipated, so when I cut the cubes, I actually ended up with cube-ish blobs that barely held their shape. My attempt to coat these weird little monsters left me wrist-deep in melted chocolate holding something that looked nothing like a perfect square of cake. The result was a not square, not appetizing, not remotely possible take on the groom’s cake.

After a brief freak-out, I developed a new plan. There was no way I was gonna get it all on the first try, I suppose. Having tested my recipes, techniques, and proportions, it’s about time to finish this wedding cake’s dress rehearsal and start the real show. This week I’m finalizing my ingredient shopping list, packing a seriously bizarre suitcase (TSA is gonna love me), and preparing for four days of serious October baking.

Here’s to hoping my high altitude adjustments work!

Next: Part V: Game Time

Previously: Part I: A Prologue & Part II: Um, So, What Are We Doing?

Those of you who know me well know I live by lists. Lists of lists. They help me stay focused, complete teeny tasks I might would definitely otherwise forget were they not written down. My BFA in stage management was, in large part, composed of and achieved by making calendars, schedules, and lists.

The little wedding cake (ha) I’m making sure feels a lot closer from this side of my trip home than it did from the other. I am not a professional baker and therefore do not have a mass of trusty recipes and finely honed techniques in my pocket ready to be whipped out a few days before the wedding. With that in mind, I’m spending much of my time over the next ten weeks (gulp) testing recipes, practicing decorating techniques, adapting recipes I like to high altitude (just in case I wasn’t nervous enough about how the cakes will turn out), and ensuring that I’ll have everything I need to I fly across the continent to take over my mother’s kitchen for several days of cake madness.

But hey, I have a plan. And for you fellow list-aholics – you know who you are – I couldn’t help but share.

July 31
inventory current decorating supplies
make list of supplies needed

August 1
order cake pans – round 10” & 14”
order other supplies needed

August 8
compile recipes to test
write recipes for small test batches of all options
make list of ingredients/supplies needed

August 10
ingredient grocery run

August 11-12: RECIPE WEEKEND #1
bake small batches of all cakes
make small batches of all fillings
make small batches of all icings
taste testing with friends?
test temperature changes/stability of icings
expand recipes to correct levels for wedding

August 13
look for new recipes if needed
build new ingredient list if needed

August 17
ingredient run if needed

August 18-19: RECIPE WEEKEND #2
test new recipes if needed
finalize recipe decisions
calculate recipe expansions for actual tier sizes
calculate high altitude adjustments
make grocery list for cakes

August 25-26: TECHNIQUE WEEKEND #1
make 14″ tier, flavor #1
test landscaping

September 1-2
complete detailed design of groom’s cake
look up recipes for cake blocks
build grocery list for testing cake blocks
dress fitting – alterations?

September 8-9: GROOM’S CAKE WEEKEND
test cake ball recipes/technique
test glaze dipping technique
test temperature changes/stability

September 15-16: TECHNIQUE WEEKEND #2
make 10” tier, flavor #2
practice landscaping

September 22-23
compile final grocery list
order any special materials online?
build list of everything to pack
ship box of supplies to CO?

September 29-30
PACK

October 2
8:30am-4:30pm – Fly to Colorado
drop off dress for pressing?
5pm-7pm – Ingredient/Supply Shopping
8pm-9pm – Dinner/unpacking
9pm-11pm – Prep kitchen

October 3
Bake all cakes
Make fillings
Make cake block layers
Freeze tiers
Construct cake bouquets & topper decor

October 4
Cut/dip blocks for grooms cake
Construct/decorate grooms cake
Cut/fill/construct tiers
Dowel tiers
Crumb coat tiers
5pm – Clean up
pick up dress
7pm – Hen Party

October 5
Final touches on grooms cake
Make icing
Ice tiers
Landscapes onto tiers
3:45pm – Leave house
4:30pm – Set up cake
5:30pm – Rehearsal Dinner
Confirm refrigerator/counter space for tomorrow

October 6
7am – Leave house
8am-11am – Cake Setup/Touchup
11am- Shower
12pm – Hair playtime
2pm – Final touches on cake
3:30pm – Cake to table
3:45pm – Photo Call
5pm – Wedding & more photos
6pm – Reception/CAKETOWN

October 7
12pm-8pm Fly to NC

Then, breathing. Or something like it.

Coming Soon: To Bake a Wedding Cake, Part IV: Testing 1, 2, 3

Previously: To Bake a Wedding Cake, Part I: A Prologue

A couple months ago, I introduced you to Sierra & Sean, some of my closest friends who, in just under six months, will be returning to our hometown to get married. A weekend in the mountains with close friends & family, beautiful Colorado autumn, and stellar meals are on the docket for their October wedding: it’s going to be a blast. And in addition to participating as a bridesmaid, I’m tackling a wedding project that Sea and I have talked about for years: I’m making their wedding cake.

Once the initial oh-my-god-you’re-engaged adrenaline and the holy-crap-I’m-making-another-wedding-cake panic subsided, it was time to start figuring out what, exactly, this project will involve. And two Skype “meetings” with the bride and groom later, we’re off to a pretty good start.

The Needs & Wants

The first step of this process was to determine what Sierra and Sean need out of their cake. Before our first meeting, I sent them a list of basic questions to get us started, some of them fairly banal. How many people will be at the wedding Will you be serving a full meal, just snacks, or just cake Will there be any other desserts Will this be an evening wedding?

Once we nailed down some of the technical details, it was time for questions a little more fun. What flavors are you interested in trying What words would you use to describe what you’re looking for: elegant silly ornate simple colorful white Are you interested in columns, water fountains, or other structure outside of the tiers What do you want it to look like What do you want it to taste like?

The Brainstorming

Our initial conversation was vague, at best, but it gave us the impetus to start trolling the internet for pictures of cake that we liked. We built a board on Pinterest to share ideas, some of which are good, and some of which are… well, silly and purely for entertainment.

The downfall of this kind of “research” is that we’ve discovered SO many different directions we could go. We love the idea of incorporating aspen leaves, which explode in a brilliant display of gold every fall in Colorado, but we’re concerned the color won’t tie into the rest of the wedding palette. I could use natural bouquets of mountain flora to decorate, or I could painstakingly re-create their sugared counterparts. I can aim for elegant simplicity or elaborate sha-zam! , or hopefully, some tasteful fusion of the two.

The “Decisions”

I use the word “decisions” lightly, but we have finally have some tangible notions of how this cake may taste and look. There will be much baking in my house this summer as I test recipes, practice techniques, and finalizing designs.

Here’s where we are heading:

How many: there will be TWO cakes: a groom’s cake to be served at the rehearsal dinner, and the ceremony cake for the wedding itself
Shape: Round, traditional pyramid shape of three tiers
Size: Groom’s cake for about 40; ceremony cake for about 80
Cake flavors to test: pumpkin, almond, “funfetti”, butterbeer?; chocolate for groom’s cake
Icing flavors to test: buttercream, vanilla, cream cheese
Tentative design concepts: Ceremony cake: alpine panoramic landscapes & Colorado mountain flora; Groom’s cake: very tongue-and-cheek re-creation of one of Sean’s favorite video games
Topper: ?

So yeah. Lots of practice cakes coming down the pike. In fact, I’ve already started playing with recipes, as you may have noticed from some recent posts…

Nothing is finalized yet, but I’m excited that we have made some progress toward some decisions. To be sure, I’ve had a lot of fun so far, but can I just say that whomever dubbed the phrase “a piece of cake” has clearly never been an amateur wedding cake baker Yes, I think I will say that.

Coming Soon: To Bake a Wedding Cake, Part III: To Do

This is Sierra.

And me. The gawky one on the right.

Sierra has been my best friend since we were eleven. Not just friends that catch up when we return to our home town at the holidays. She’s the kind of friend that still edits my resumes (and I hers). The kind of friend that calls me at seven in the morning just to tell me about how crappy the Phoenix traffic is, still references events from middle school, and who holds the other membership in our two-person book club. The kind of friend who helps me strategize and plan elaborate parties despite the fact that we live 2000 miles apart.

We’ve been through quite a lot in our fifteen-year friendship. We’ve traveled together, both in this country and out of it. We spent the better part of our high school years taking most of the same classes, singing in the same choirs, and spending hours and hours of time in our high school theatre program both on stage and off.

It wasn’t always glamorous. I’d like to say we were Cinderella and the Fairy Godmother. We were not. That’s us in the horse costumes.

Not. Even. Kidding.

On top of everything, we’ve celebrated milestones together at every age. Graduations, proms, AP exams, making the cut for Colours honor choir, landing jobs, losing jobs, getting into college, getting OUT of college, 4-H, first dates, and most everything else.

And now, for the last few weeks, we’ve been talking about another milestone that is coming up next fall…

Sierra’s getting married (and blogging about it too!) To another dear friend of mine, Sean, who actually WAS Sierra’s aforementioned first date waaaay back in high school.

They’ve been together now for a little over nine years, and have had many adventures of their own.

There aren’t many people who get so lucky on the first shot. They have, truly, a beautiful love story.

And true to some giggly conversation Sierra and I probably had at a sleepover years ago, I’m following through on a promise I made regarding her then-future wedding.

You guessed it… I’m making their wedding cake! (gulp)

Now, what, you might ask, makes me possibly think I have any business making a wedding cake for someone Well as it turns out, in addition to cooking and blogging and working too many hours, cake decorating is a bit of a hobby for me and has been since I joined 4-H as an eight-year-old.

AND, this isn’t my first wedding cake. In addition to a number of “practice cakes” I completed the year I took a tiered cake to competition, I’ve actually made cakes for honest-to-god weddings, one of them in collaboration with my sister (check out my killer HP glasses, I was totally fated to love those books), and one of them on my own. The latter, in fact, was just a little over a year ago for Kassi & Mark, another great pair of dear friends.

That cake was made, oh, several months before I started this blog, so there is little documentation of the process. But there definitely is a process, and since I’m in the business of sharing, I’m gonna tell you alllllllll about this one. The designing, the recipe hunting and testing, the nail-biting moments of terror, the late nights falling asleep with frosting stuck in my hair… all of it.

So stay tuned! You’ll get an inside view of all those little things you want to know (or may not want to know) about building a wedding cake, from concept to crumbs.

And I get to give the greatest wedding gift I can think of to the best friend I can possibly imagine.

Next: To Bake a Wedding Cake, Part 2: Um, So, What Are We Doing?