My heart was beating out of my chest, I literally thought I was going to die of a freaking anxiety attack in the Molenvleit cold room. The engaged one lay peacefully soaking up the morning sunshine, blissfully unaware, while she waited for her curls to set. The Swiss Meringue Buttercream was now slowly splitting and turning to oily mush in my newly manicured hands. SHIT. The fact that my curls were now being set in vanilla mousse was beside the point!
The 5 tier madame stood, smugly, on top of the pile of Champagne boxes (The Cake Boss would be horrified) and waited, impatiently, for the richness of the once satin icing to be draped over her buxom body. I had every intention of arriving on the big day,sandwiching the glorious chiffon layers together, adorning this little bridezilla in her velvet soft gown, tucking her lacy flowers behind her ear and sending her off with a slap on her vanilla flavoured bottom. I actually had a little laugh looking back at my naivete.
I never planned on it being about a thousand degrees in the shade, something that
the most temperamental icing on earth Swiss Meringue Buttercream absolutely hates! My final hour saw me crouched over in the Molenvliet cold room, icicles forming on my flared nostrils, frantically wielding my little spatula at anyone who dared open the door and upset the temperature of my operation. Hands shaking from fear that maybe I had bitten off more than I could chew, I could almost picture the Married one's face as her cake, was wheeled in starkers- I decided that this would not be an option. Like a bride possessed, I whipped that the most temperamental icing on earth Swiss Meringue Buttercream until every one of my new pilates muscles (thanks Max) was on fire and my icing had returned to its former, dreamy glory! By now my curls were hanging somewhere around my ankles! Slowly but surely my frantic mother and I draped that rich little cow into her lacy gown, gasping as we finally took a step back, stunned by the beauty that was my home made creation.