Sophisticated Swine

If the cake has been commissioned, is it still procrastibaking?

The answer is yes and no.  Yes: if the commission is accepted, so is the time commitment, and therefore whatever it is that really should be getting done is not getting done.  No: when you're baking a cake that's not for yourself but rather for someone else, the pressure is on in a way that it obviously isn't for the average procrastibake.

Plus, you don't get to eat it.

Does this really matter?  No, probably not; payment compensates enough for the pain of pressure/lack of face-stuffing.  And in this particular case, so do fondant pigs.

My commission, should I have chosen to accept it (spoiler: I did) was to make a 'sophisticated pig' cake for a 15 year old's birthday.  These were admittedly puzzling instructions (my friend suggested a pig with a monocle), but they weren't anything much stranger than some requests I'd had or heard of working in the bakery.  To complicate matters a bit, the birthday girl didn't like chocolate (*gasp!!*), and so the little piggies could have no mud to play in. She also didn't like nuts, so marzipan was out.  Starting from that, I concluded that I needed fondant for the pigs and buttercream that I could sprinkle cookie crumbs on to signify dirt; not chocolate cookies though, no no.  Everybody loves vanilla cake with strawberry (and if they don't we can't be friends), so that was my suggestion for the cake itself, and happily it was met with approval.

This little piggy bought some fondant...

The first step was to make the fondant pigs, a.) so that they'd have time to dry out before I put them on the cake and b.) so that I didn't have to mess around with them on the day, risking something going wrong. I used google images to try to get some inspiration, and happened upon this great tutorial from candy ribbon sweets.  I won't give complete instructions here because they've already been so well done there.

I bought red fondant because the store was out of pink, but this actually worked to my advantage because it meant I could really control the colour by mixing a small amount of it in to a ball of white fondant.  I also added a touch of black fondant just to make the colour a little less bright and a little more natural.  I added some tylose powder to dry it out, and had a raw spaghetti noodle on hand to attach the piggies head to his body.  The first step is to roll out one ball for the body, a smaller one for the head, four even smaller ones for the feet, and, continuing to downsize, one for the snout and two for the ears.  You may want to cover the balls with a piece of saran wrap to prevent drying as you go along, although I didn't find this to be a problem.

Squeeze the tops of the legs so that they will be narrower where they attach to the body with fatter hooves, and attach them to the body (it helps if you rub a little water on the body where attaching legs to help them stick).  Using a decorating tool as shown on candy ribbon sweets, or simply using a knife, press a line into the hooves to create a cleft.  Poke a bit of raw spaghetti into the head or body where you want to attach them, moisten whichever piece doesn't have the spaghetti in it, and stick the head to the body (being careful not to poke the spaghetti all the way through one side or the other).  Mold the ears by making triangles and indenting them either with a decorating tool or a q-tip, attach them to the head, and mold the snout by pressing the final ball into a flat disc.  Attach it, and poke holes for nostrils with some of the left-over spaghetti.

I made two pigs, one perky and one pretty sleepy, and made extra noses/buttons with the leftover pink fondant to use as decoration on the bottom border of the cake.  I also made some ribbons with plain white fondant, using a handy ribbon-cutter tool that a caking friend suggested that I pick up.  They're quite nifty little things which came in a three pack of different sizes, and I can see how they'll be useful if I ever need to make a bunch of ribbons, as they're a bit faster than free-hand cutting, with much more consistent results.  There is a learning curve to getting the fondant pieces out of the cutter, but once you're past that it's a breeze.

 

This little piggy made swiss buttercream...

With all the fondant work done, the next step was to make the cake.  I used the Verastile Vanilla cake in the Recipe Box, originally from Martha Stewart, but since I've discussed it before I won't do it again here.  It doesn't really require much discussion anyway, it's vanilla cake!

The more exciting (read: time-consuming, dreams-of-a-stand-mixer-inducing) cake component was swiss meringue buttercream, the recipe for which can be found in the Recipe Box.  As the name implies, this buttercream is meringue-based, which is what can make it temperamental, but which is also why I like it.  Because it contains meringue, it is much lighter than the run-of-the-mill pure butter and confectioners sugar buttercream, and it is likewise often less sweet, although you can push it to the sicklier side of sugary if you so desire.  I don't.  This is also the type of buttercream often seen in wedding cakes, because it can be so silky smooth, and by substituting shortening for butter (*blegh*) you can make it pure white; substituting part shortening also helps prevent it from melting if you live in a warmer climate (I learned that on Craftsy watching their free 'Modern Buttercream' lesson - it's quite a useful tool for learning new tips!).

The first step to this buttercream is making the meringue, which is just sugar and egg whites.  I've found that using castor sugar is preferable to granulated, because the finer granules dissolve more quickly in the whites than do the larger ones.

I also tended to use golden castor sugar, since it gives a nice antique white colour.

 

Whisk the egg whites and sugar together and then set them over a simmering double boiler, whisking constantly.  Failure to whisk will result in very sugary fat-free scrambled eggs, and nobody wants that.  Continue whisking over heat until the sugar is completely dissolved.  (If you have a candy thermometer, this may be around 145F/62C).

When the sugar is completely dissolved, remove the whites from the stove and whip them to a stiff peak.

 

Allow the meringue to cool to room temperature before proceeding with the next step, which is to add the butter.  Butter should be added in pieces, either at room temperature or slightly cooler; if your meringue is still too warm and the buttercream won't come together, adding more, colder butter may help, as might popping it in the fridge for a bit, or adding confectioners sugar... but I'm getting ahead of myself.

 

Adding the butter will first soften up the meringue, but as you continue adding and beating (which is preferably done with the paddle attachment of a stand mixer, if you have one, because if creates fewer bubbles than egg beaters or a whisk), things may start to look a little startling...

 

Breaking down...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Near the 'scrambled egg' phase.

 

Hel-lo buttercream!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

While the sequence of events may look disturbing when all you want is nice smooth buttercream, don't be alarmed.  Once you get past the scrambled egg phase - and if you're using a hand mixer, this may take quite a while - you can pretty quickly see the buttercream pulling itself together, and if you are using a hand mixer, you should be able to feel the change in consistency as well; it becomes much thicker than what it was in the sickly-looking broken-down stage.  If you're making the buttercream ahead and refrigerate it, note that you will have to re-whip it and go through these stages again.  Once finished the buttercream can be flavoured with vanilla or other extracts to taste (or other flavours too; whiskey is a personal favourite).

This little piggy put it all together...

I also made the cake itself ahead and froze it, letting it thaw a bit before I was ready to use it.  Freezing serves a dual purpose of preserving the cake's moisture, and making it less crumbly when splitting the layers.

'My, what a white bottom you have...'

 

I was interested to notice this time around just how much lighter the bottom of the cake was than the sides.  It's possible that they've always baked like this and I just never noticed, but I think it might be as result of the new pans I bought last month, with their light bottoms and dark sides, furthering my suspicion that they really do help to bake an even layer.

By contrast, I toasted my crushed biscuits in the oven to darken them up.  In the end they still resembled sand a bit more than dirt, but oh well.  What are you going to do when chocolate is off the table?  (If you're me, you'll probably wipe the residue off your face before someone realizes you're the one who swiped it).

Then I put it all together!  I layered the jam first with the buttercream on top, which was a bit difficult as the strawberry chunks made it impossible to get an even layer in the jam, and the kept poking up into my buttercream as I tried to spread it, mixing the two together... really no one but me was going to be bothered by this, and short of entering a competition it doesn't matter, but it would have been easier had I used a jam without pieces.  Layering buttercream first would have meant the jam would sink right into it, unless you worked layer by layer, freezing them between to solidify the buttercream before adding the jam... too much trouble it seems, and probably all to be undone once it returned to room temperature.

When icing the outside of the cake, it's best to put an excess of buttercream on the top, pushing it a bit down over the sides, and then using your offset spatula or palette knife to frost the sides, bringing the buttercream up to meet the bits that overhang from the top.  Then you can smooth it all out and remove the excess buttercream.  Following this a ridge will likely form around the outer edge of the top of the cake, and the corner can be sharpend by pulling this down and inward toward the centre of the cake.

Once iced, use your offset spatula to lift the cake onto on hand, and with the other hand scoop handfuls of crushed biscuit, cookies or sprinkles out of a shallow bowl and up around the sides of the cake.

Gently lower it onto a drum board or plate before finishing it off with a border, and, depending upon the occasion, perhaps some sophisticated swine.

These little piggies went 'wee wee wee' all the way to the party...

 

And this little piggy had none.

The End