My Other Blog

What's a Wreck?

A Cake Wreck is any cake that is unintentionally sad, silly, creepy, inappropriate - you name it. A Wreck is not necessarily a poorly-made cake; it's simply one I find funny, for any of a number of reasons. Anyone who has ever smeared frosting on a baked good has made a Wreck at one time or another, so I'm not here to vilify decorators: Cake Wrecks is just about finding the funny in unexpected, sugar-filled places.

Now, don't you have a photo you want to send me? ;)

- Jen

Entries in Oh-So-Ugly (209)


Zero Craps Given

Today's bakeries face a lot of challenges: laziness, incompetence, negativity, temper tantrums, extra long bathroom breaks...

But enough about your kids. Let's talk about the bakers.

See, I'm starting to think some of them have just... well... stopped giving a flying crap.

Or in this case, perhaps giving too much of one.

And just think: Someone was PAID ... to do THAT.


This, too:

And this:

And this:

And this:

The good news: I've managed to convince a bunch of bakers that cupcake cakes (pthooie!) will always be hideous, no matter how hard they try.

The bad news: So they've just stopped trying.

It's a hollow victory, sure, but I'll take it.

(Besides, this is still an improvement.)


I see this next design a lot, and I'm convinced it began as a dare:

"Oh yeah? Well *I* bet we could drag our fingers all through this here icing, and customers will STILL buy it!"


Sometimes I think about my great-grandfather, a proud man who left home at age 13 to spend his life overcoming poverty and obstacles with dignity, grace, and hard work. Then I see something like this:

... and I think, "DUDE - they spelled everything right! Amazing!"

(And I'll bet you a whoopie pie you just thought the exact same thing. THIS IS WHAT WRECKERATORS HAVE DONE TO US, PEOPLE.)


Of course, that amazement only lasts as long as it takes me to open the next e-mail:

Aaaand the wrecky balance is restored.


Thanks to Cathy W., Leah Z., Rachel C., Megan & Rebekah, Shoshana J., Colleen M., Kathleen S., Eliza T., & Luna L. for the fresh plate of perspective.


The Emperor's New Cakes

Once upon a time, in the sprinkle-coated lands of the Cakey Kingdom, a mysterious stranger came to town. The stranger was peddling a wondrous new kind of icing: an icing so pure, so heavenly, that only those of unimpeachable character could see or taste it.

Since most of the Cakey Kingdom citizens didn't know what "unimpeachable" meant, they all immediately pretended they could see the wondrous icing - when, in fact, they could not.

"Oh, yeah. I totally see it. Yup."

"Me, too!"


Soon all the Cakey Kingdom people were raving about the wondrous icing - though without ever agreeing on its exact color or flavor.

The Kingdom's food critic finally settled the matter by describing the icing as, "a sublime mix somewhere between a summer's sunset and the color of lullabies." Which everyone agreed was exactly right.

At their customers' insistence, all the bakers in the Kingdom gamely purchased great big barrels of the lighter-than-air icing from the mysterious stranger, slathering it on their cakes with gusto, and perfecting the art of keeping a straight face during deliveries:

Occasionally a small child would cry, "But, I want my cake FROSTED!" and the embarrassed parents would have to hogtie the toddler and shuffle home in shame. There they would have a stern talk about philosophy and keeping your head down.

Eventually the new icing craze began to take its toll: cakes drying out left and right, roving gangs of black market "frost-iteers" scalping canned frosting on the street, and the pie business booming with its new slogan, "You can really SEE the difference!"

Even so, the old Emperor himself requested the wondrous new icing for his royal birthday cake. So the palace bakers purchased gallons of the stuff, and on the big day all of the Emperor's subjects gathered round for the grand unveiling.

As the cake was slowly wheeled into the throne room, the aged Emperor peered down his jewel-encrusted spectacles, bushy brows furrowed. The court held its collective breath as he silently scrutinized every tier of his birthday cake.

After several long, breathless moments, the Emperor lowered his spectacles.

"That," he said gravely, "is the ugliest cake I have ever seen."

The courtiers gasped, the royal bakers cringed back in terror, and at least one sullen teenager snickered.

Then, to everyone's astonishment, the old Emperor began to laugh. And laugh. And laugh!

"Finally," he wheezed, dabbing at his eyes. "After all these years, and all these perfect, beautiful cakes, at long last I have something I can send to Cake Wrecks!"


** THE END **


Thanks to Miranda R. and Anony M. for the reminder that there is always a silver lining. And in the case of cake, it's a silver lining you can eat. (Also,"naked" wedding cakes are totally a thing now. It's like bakers WANT this blog to live forever.)