thanks to betty crocker and pillsbury, there is no shortage of cakes in a box that anyone can make perfectly – the funfetti cake should be probably have a place in the smithsonian as a turning point in human ingenuity. however, there is also, on the other side of spectrum, the type of cake for which the recipe recommends you spend several days working out logistics, testing hypotheses and slaving in an extremely hot kitchen before putting all of the pieces carefully together just so to create something previously unwitnessed by the human senses. as the finishing touches are applied, women and children gasp, fanfare plays, grown men weep from the sheer beauty. the sky opens up and from the heavens descends: the princess cake.
am i being overly dramatic? in all seriousness, this cake was a pretty hefty undertaking. why did i take it on? the girl sent me a link about 2 years ago to the princess cake, saying that she wanted one. i checked it out, laughed it off, but bookmarked it for later. earlier this year, i found the bookmark, and a bit more confident in my baking skills, did a little googling for more info on this cake. it’s a traditional swedish dessert with a multiple layers and a giant sheet of homemade marzipan that is draped on the cake like fondant.
assembling the cake was not actually that difficult. the whipped cream, which covers the cake and provides a giant dome on which the marzipan lies, holds up surprisingly well. the most challenging aspect for me was the cake itself – it’s a genoise cake, meaning it does not use any type of leavening agent to rise. the volume of the cake is introduced while you make the batter by beating whole eggs into a frothy, aerated mixture. folding butter, vanilla and flour into the eggs proved to be tough. it took me several tries (and lots of eggs).
it really does pay to plan in advance of tackling a princess cake. i made the mistake of trying to make the marzipan at the same time as the pastry cream. i set the mixer up on the counter next to the range and literally used one hand to manipulate the almond paste while whisking boiling cream and eggs with the other. i laugh at danger!
i finally got all of the elements of this delicious monstrosity together and had the girl come over for dinner and dessert for the great (surprise) unveiling. she was very happy with the cake (and thankfully it tasted amazing). as i sliced a giant wedge for her, she asked what all of the layers were. she didn’t know? wasn’t she the one who asked me to lovingly devote several days to measuring, mixing, kneading, rolling and baking? “i just thought it was pretty!” she responded. to be fair, it was very pretty. we were both lucky it tasted so good too.