It’s All About The Cake

Last week, I made a three tiered wedding cake for a very special young woman (aptly named Grace) who has been in my life since her birth. While baking cakes for family celebrations is nothing new for me, this was a first. An entire seven days were devoted to preparing the many layers of vanilla cake from scratch plus a strawberry curd filling and buttercream frosting. I made multiple sketches, endless lists of needed tools, and watched a plethora of YouTube videos on how the professionals transport these confectionary masterpieces. After multiple Amazon purchases and daily runs to the grocery store and Costco, my admiration for those who do this for a living soared to new heights.

When I told friends that I was baking the wedding cake, they seemed nonplussed and concerned. Why was I subjecting myself to this herculean task? At my age? Why not just pay a bakery? I found simple explanations difficult. “Love” was my simple go-to answer. More than anything, I wanted to do something meaningful for my “chosen” niece (her mom, Mary, is my “chosen sister”). Cooking and feeding people tops my list of meaningful activities. These sacred, sacramental moments, created when people come together at table, elevate ordinary meals to sublime experiences.

With ample time to listen to classical music and ponder deeper connections, I eagerly entered the chapel of my small galley kitchen each day with an open heart. I prayed a benediction over each stick of butter, every cup of flour and sugar; I anointed every batter and bowl of frosting with homemade vanilla. Litanies of praise erupted as the cakes rose in the oven and slipped easily out of the pans. Prayers of gratitude poured out when the strawberry curd thickened to perfection and the butter and powdered sugar magically turned into fluffy pillows of frosting. The day before the wedding, a dear friend came to keep vigil with me as I filled the layers, did a crumb coat, refrigerated, then frosted each tier with swirly texture and anchored the centers with plastic straws. Together, we chanted our faith, hope, and love for a batch made in heaven.

The next day, after assembling the cake before the reception and later placing it on a special table, I gazed at the guests who came together to show their deep affection and support. Timeless love and wisdom radiated just below the surface of obligatory small talk and cultural expectations. Eucharistic words came to mind: take, break, eat, and share. Take the abundant love you feel this day; allow it to break open your heart; become the food of love you eat; go out into the world and share that love with everyone. Experience thanksgiving on this first Saturday in August.

After all those days of preparation, the cake was devoured in minutes. Everyone loved it, especially me, who took unspeakable joy seeing how much people still relish this traditional ritual. Indeed, I thought, it’s all about the cake. And love. And life. And a community of real presence, offering a safety net for a beautiful young couple who pledged their everlasting vows on a warm summer evening.