Let them eat (old, frozen) cake

So, OK

We have very little bench space in the kitchen.

This piece of domestic prime real estate is taken up by some oft-used stuff, but also stuff that we don’t quite have a home for yet – and these things get shuffled from one end of the bench to the other in an effort to look inconspicuous.

The things we use most are these…

  • Coffee machine
  • Kettle
  • Bowl of fruit
  • Vitamins
  • Bread
  • Spices
  • Block o’ knives
  • Soda Stream
  • Barbeque sauce
  • Tissues (I cry a lot as I like to keep sauces in the fridge, but The Mister doesn’t)

The things that are on the bench as we don’t know where to put them…

  • Barbeque sauce
  • Blender
  • Giant automatic mixer bowl thingo (actually, scratch that, I can now see it has a home on the bookshelf)
  • Iron
  • Wedding cake


While most people that have a wedding cake when they marry, the tradition says you have to keep the top tier for the first anniversary or the birth of your first child, which ever comes first.

Keep it?

Keep it where?

Right, keep it in the freezer.

For a year.

A whole year.

Old cake.


But why stop there? This cake was originally plonked inside the window of a family bakery in England and is considered  to be the oldest complete wedding cake. It even survived a Second World War bomb blast.


It sure does look tempting at 113 years old. I’m sure there were some people that had been dying for a slice.


Anyway, our wedding was in early November and I’ve had this hunk of cake taking up space ever since. Trouble is, although we have a freezer that is big enough for some frozen peas, vodka and the odd Vienetta, there is absolutely no room for this foil-wrapped brick.

Actually, it’s not a brick. My Nan made it for us. It’s beautiful. It’s just that, well, my understanding is that she went and made this cake after I asked for her not to make it.

I detest fruitcake, not matter how booze-laced it is.

But this baking maverick, my gorgeous Nan, decided she was going to make it anyway.

Which was great for the silent competition that was going on,  especially since we commandeered all the aunties and mums to make us a cake for the wedding. Each.

Little did they know we were pitting them against each other. No, not really. Or really? They’ll never know…

It was like a yummy cake buffet of homemade deliciousness. This was part of the cake buffet, sans cupcakes, but you get the idea..

Pip + Beau 797

Pip + Beau 097

But Nan had a plan.

Clearly no cake was going to be leftover as the hoards buzzed around the cake table, and her thinking ahead – of making that fruitcake with the sole purpose of it being the ‘anniversary cake’ – was one of the most thoughtful presents I’ve ever received.

I still hate fruitcake, but it was one of those cakes that was less likely to go a bit gross after a year.

The thing is, while the lacquering effect of the marzipan probably kept that old cake in some kind of ‘edible’ condition (blergh), ours doesn’t have a coccoon – except for some cling and a fortress of aluminium foil.

So what to do with it?

There was someone really spesh at our wedding that couldn’t make the reception. My other grandmother, Joanie. She’s had a bit of a rough trot lately, including moving up from a country town in the South West to live in a nursing home in the big smoke.

The reception was just going to be too loud and too stressed-out for her, so while she came to our ceremony, she missed out on the party.

So, if she couldn’t be there, we’re bringing it to her.

This weekend, armed with our photos and that goddam cake, we want to help her feel like she was part of the day.

And with the leftover cake?

Well, I’m hoping that it will earn her some friends at the nursing home.

If not, I’m sure I can find some room on our bookshelf.

So what are we going to eat on our first anniversary?

I think a half a chocolate or caramel mudcake from The Cheesecake Shop will do the job just fine.