CAKES NOT FOR SALE.
By: David Choe
Tags: Cake, Thankful, Thank You, Baker, Baking

I love to bake.

No, not marijuana. Like cupcakes or cookies, but mostly cakes. Like I love it. There’s a weird formula around baking. The second I know I’m going to be baking a new creation, I get in an ecstatic mood that I can’t really describe with my words. The chemical hormones jet through my body and I’m a jolly piece of human (so I guess kinda like marijuana? jkjk). The sudden urge to bake comes from weird triggers. Sometimes it’s from scrolling through instagram and seeing something that makes my tongue swell, if not it’s usually because there’s a meaningful person in my life that I want to show my gratitude to. Looking at the process in entirety, I love it all. I remember reading a New York Times article a couple years ago titled, “Why Work When You Can Procrastibake?” I was nodding frantically throughout the whole article because I could relate to every aspect of procrastibaking. There are times where the most responsible thing to do is to put work, chores, finishing taxes aside to bake. Although there are many reasons I bake, the creative process is very consistent, and I would love to take you on a little ride to show how my baked creations are made.

The Recipient

Most of the time, the recipients of the finished product are set before I start. The creation changes depending on the taste palettes i’m trying to impress. If it’s for my mom or other Korean family friends, I go for desserts (TANGENT: I learned in elementary school that dessert is spelled with two S’s instead of one because you want more dessert lol) where the fruit is the highlight. The lighter and less sweet options. My dad, on the other hand, is a feen for anything with nuts and chocolate. The mission isn’t always easy and it takes multiple text messages to their significant other in order to discover what their preferences are, or scrolling through their instagram feed to find only selfies and nothing about their dessert preference. Often times, the enigma is much more challenging. Sometimes the sweets are being delivered to people who are going through bitter seasons of fighting through cancer, grieving over loved ones, or leaving for far destinations. In those cases, my mission is to help them to escape from their realities for a hot second. Once I have the frameworks of the situation I am trying to solve, I frantically search for inspiration. What fruits are in season? What would I enjoy baking? What can I make with the 3 eggs I have in the fridge? After various Pinterest searches, looking over different recipes I’ve saved, and much digging, I come to a final product that I want. Sometimes it’s a combination of recipes. Sometimes it’s recipes that I’ve already made. Sometimes I want to get specific by drawing the anatomy and exteriors of the cake. Oftentimes I don’t have time, and I just start taking out the ingredients.

Whipping It Together.

I started baking in elementary school. It began with baking Betty Crocker cake mixes, then slowly baking easy recipes. Failing. Failing. Repeatedly failing 10 more times. Going into Michael’s hundreds of times with the “40% off one item” coupon (my lifesaver) to slowly accumulate my collection of offset spatulas, piping tips, kitchen scales, etc. Nowadays when I start cooking, I usually look over the recipe multiple times to make sure there aren’t any surprises or special instructions (there are time where you don’t have the time to give your butter a deep tissue massage and you need to find a new recipe). I set out the majority of my recipes and I try to work in a clean kitchen. I wash all the preexisting dishes prior to starting so no kimchi juice accidentally spills into my genoise cake batter. Often I put on an apron so I look cooler, but I usually get so messy throughout that I need to change clothes and be bathed by a Russian babushka afterwards.

When the checklist of to-dos are finished, the best part begins. The whipping of the butter that I abruptly softened in the pockets of my sweats (it’s not gross! I swear it works), separating the eggs, making an infused milk concoction. After numerous folds, sifts, and incorporations, you finally pop the batter in the oven, say a quick prayer to Jesus, and hope for the best. While I anxiously wait, I finish the dishes, put away the flour, and sneak in a quick Kpop music video on my parent’s absurdly big TV. When the timer beeps done, I open the oven door gently, yet frantically. The grand reveal is usually paired with a sigh of relief or confusion. Sometimes you need to work with what you get, or start softening more butter to start over. Assuming that the creation is okay, I’ll lead you to the rest of the process. While the cake is resting, I usually watch an episode of a Korean drama, trying to completely forget about the cake. After wiping off some tears and remembering that the cake is resting on my counter, I go over and whip up some whipped cream or frosting to finish my creation.

I think this is when my favorite part begins. I get to throw my offset spatula left and right to cover imperfections with frosting. After putting on large heapings of frosting, I am somewhat satisfied with the cake. I start to garnish with dried raspberry powder, fresh fruit, feuilletine crumbs, typographic “happy birthday signs,” or whatever creative ideas flow through my head. I wrap up the process by putting it all in a box, tying a nice little tiffany bow, and sitting in awe of my masterpiece. This is also when I usually instagram a photo of my creation (follow me on @immaeat for all my photos).

Hand Delivery.

I take the cake out and rearrange the fridge so the Korean side dishes can relocate back to their spot in the fridge (cakes take up a lot of room). Then I put the cake in my trunk alongside the card I wrote (usually the cake is accompanied with a card). I find the home, business, coffee shop that I will be delivering the cake to on my phone’s navigation system, and begin my trip. I’m usually humming along to the song that’s playing and thinking about whether the recipient will like my cake or not. The excitement makes my heart skip a beat. (With my eyes open) I say a quick prayer that the cake would magically be the remedy to relieve stress, kill the cancer, and put a smile on some faces. When I get to the location, I carefully take the cake and skip over to the destination in excitement. When I finally get to hand over the cake, the reactions are priceless. It’s overwhelming taking it all in. Sometimes there are smiles, sometimes there are teary eyes. This part is usually what puts me back in the kitchen to bake more cakes for others.

The Icing on the Cake.

People see my cakes and ask why I won’t sell them. For the time being, I have no desire to start a business because I still have way too many people that I need to thank. I want my cakes to be special. Something you can’t buy with money. No, I’m not being cocky. I want my cakes to be way more than just desserts. I want it to be a gem that captures hearts. I want it to be my sincerity and authenticity. My hobby exceeds being a favorite pastime, to being a passion and a love language. I hope sweet gifts can be a remedy that ripples on to other people. This world is way too beautiful and sacred for us to be in vain. I want to thank the people in my life and show my gratitude for how much I appreciate them. There are way too many people who have made huge impacts in my life. I’m hoping to show my appreciation one slice at a time.