Little Monster Cake


Barbara Jo made this cake for her nephew’s four-month birthday party.

We often refer to my nephew as “Little Monster” so naturally when I set
about designing a cake for his four-month birthday party (OK, I admit it,
I designed the cake first and then made up an occasion to make it for.)
what I came up with was essentially a 3-dimensional bust of my nephew as a
slimy octopus monster. When I described this concept to my sister, Barbara
May, she pointed out that she had been envisioning him as a cute, fuzzy,
Sesame Street-type monster, not as an oozing, ugly, Cthulhu-type monster.
I pointed out that, unlike Cthulhu, my design had no wings and so was
merely an octopus or squid monster, not a Cthulhu monster.

Initially I was hoping to cover the entire cake with a very thin layer of
Jell-o Jiggler for a truly slimy, gooey texture. Unfortunately, while
preliminary tests were encouraging in terms of the feasibility of creating
a very thin, firm Jiggler and draping it effectively over the cake, these
same tests also revealed that Jell-o is fundamentally incompatible with
all forms of icing. A couple years back I tried to incorporate a Jell-o
swamp into my New Orleans Gingerbread house. This proved to be impossible
because the liquid Jell-o would have dissolved the house’s royal icing
wrought iron railings so I used piping gel instead. I was hoping that this
time the Jell-o would work because my plan was to use Jell-o which had
already set up. But my hope proved to be in vain. Even solidified Jiggler
dissolved sample royal icing bits away into nothing within a few hours. I
think it’s time that I face the fact that the marriage of Jell-o and my
cake / gingerbread projects is not meant to be.

I planned the flavor combinations while still envisioning the Jell-o
coating. Coordinating an entire set of cake and icing flavors to go with
cherry Jell-o is quite a challenge and I suspect that, had the Jell-o
actually happened, it would ultimately have been rather gross with any
flavors of cake and icing. I settled on a white butter cake with raspberry
buttercream icing filling. In and of itself, this might have been OK with
cherry Jell-o, but I also planned hazelnut flavored tentacles, a chocolate
ganache crumb coat, followed by a layer of marzipan and a royal icing
finish. Like I said, it probably would have been gross with cherry Jell-o.

The first step was to make the base for the cake to sit on. My plan was to
make a cute fondant baby blanket to contrast with the yucky monster. First
I covered an elliptical piece of 3/8″ foam core with marbled green
fondant, suggesting grass. Then I rolled out another sheet of white
fondant for the blanket and stamped little sea creatures on it with food
coloring. I tried to drape the blanket onto the base in such a way that it
would look like the monster’s tentacles were squinching it up, but it
didn’t work that well and I probably would have been better off with a
flat blanket. I also put a little blue border around the edge to make it
look more like a blanket. In the end, the blanket wasn’t that good and
didn’t really make sense with the rest of the cake, which I think proves
that I’m not meant to make those sickeningly adorable baby shower cakes
shaped like diaper bags. But I think we all knew that already, didn’t we?

Next, the cake itself. As I already mentioned, I used a butter cake
recipe. I had never before tried this recipe, mostly because I’m a much
bigger fan of chocolate cake than white cake, but it turned out to be a
great recipe – really buttery and one of the best cakes for carving that
I’ve ever tried. So once it was torted and filled with the raspberry
buttercream icing (made by mixing some seedless raspberry jam into vanilla
buttercream icing) carving it into the shape of a baby / octopus head went
very smoothly.

For the tentacles I made some praline feullitine candy that learned how to
make at a candy class that Mom and I took recently. Essentially, it’s
hazelnut butter (made by grinding up toasted hazelnuts and confectioners
sugar in a food processor) mixed with milk chocolate and feullitine, which
is a lot like ground up flakes of cake ice cream cones. In this case, in
fact, it was exactly like ground up flakes of cake ice cream cone because
it’s not like one can buy real feullitine at the local grocery store. In
fact, it’s hard to find even on the internet, but that may be because I’m
not really sure how to spell it. The praline feullitine worked remarkably
well as a sculpting material, and I soon had some lovely tentacles.

Next, I coated the cake with a smooth layer of chocolate ganache and
started rolling out the marzipan. It’s a good thing that I was planning to
coat the entire cake with royal icing, because the marzipan did not go on
neatly at all. I rolled it too thin because I didn’t have enough
and then it dried out, both because I put too much confectioners sugar
down to roll it in and because I covered the cake too slowly. So the
marzipan covering ended up extremely messy with seams all over the place
and smudges of chocolate ganache everywhere.

Fortunately, none of that mattered, because the next step was to cover the
entire cake with royal icing. The first layer of royal icing obscured all
the imperfections. The second layer filled in all the facial details. I
even put in the little dent in the top of his little baby skull. At this
point I decided that it looked too much like an octopus and not enough
like a monster, so I added some little ridges running up the sides of the
tentacles and extending onto the face. As Barbara May pointed out later,
it made him look sort of Cardasian.

No octopus monster is complete without suckers on its tentacles. I made
these out of gum paste, cutting them out with a circle cutter, then
cupping them with a ball tool. I stuck them to the tentacles with royal
icing.

At this point I transferred the octopus monster onto the previously
prepared base and discovered that the 3/16″ foamcore under the octopus
monster wasn’t sturdy enough to support the tentacles without bending and
the royal icing coating cracked in several places and had to be repaired.

Next step – color! An airbrush probably would have been a very effective
tool, but mine was 2,000 miles away, so I did it the old fashioned way -
paste food colors and a soft paint brush. In the interests of maximum
ickyness, I went with a base coat of flesh tone interspersed with icy
blues. I painted the Cardasian ridges purple and added deeper blue
shadows. Red suckers and white highlights finished off the paint job.

Now the cake looked pretty good, but it just wasn’t wet enough. An octopus
monster presumably lives in water and my nephew drools a lot so I
had a couple of reasons for wanting the cake to look moist. I put a big
pile of piping gel drool in front of the monster’s mouth (which was
chewing on a tentacle in homage to my nephew’s habit of constantly chewing
on his hand – and his toys, and his clothes, and our fingers, and
basically anything else that comes within arm’s reach of him). Then I
sprayed the entire cake with some watery corn syrup for that all over,
just-emerged-from-the-briny-deeps shine. This had the added advantage of
making the colors run and blend a little bit which gave the cake more of a
natural look.

Most everybody at the party thought the cake was sort of gross (looking,
not tasting) and didn’t really look anything like my nephew, who is the
world’s cutest baby. Barbara May, on the other hand, thought that it
did look like him and she therefore declared the monster cake
absolutely adorable.

5 thoughts on “Little Monster Cake

  1. These cakes show a unique talent. I'm wondering if you would share the carving butter cake recipe with me as I'm having trouble finding one that stands and cuts clean. Cakeitwithsue@shaw.ca

  2. The most shockingly awful cake concept I could ever imagine. Wow that is horrible. Not every idea that pops into ones head is a good one. I would seriously consider hiding any evidence of this cake from the child. SICK & DEMENTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  3. I want to apologize for the harsh critisism. I was just shocked. I honestly don’t understand this cake and don’t personally like it, but I shouldn’t have left such a mean comment.
    My apologies:)

  4. Ha! No worries – a lot of people have said a lot worse things about my cakes. I don’t take it personally. My nephew loves my cakes and he loves me; that’s all that matters to me.