I made them myself. And they are horrible! NO JUDGIES!

Still, as my husband worked his poor little soul to teeny tiny pieces in his efforts to coordinate and coach the Lego Robotics team (with, I have to say, very little support from the school. More on that when I can write about it without spitting on my computer), and as the kids both kicked ass and took names at the competition yesterday (and proud we are of all of them), I have spent the last two days baking Lego cakes.

And you know what, those kids deserve cake. Their school is a small, fairly new charter school, and this is the very first trophy that the school has won. The very first one. And I am proud to the teeth of these children.

I am not, however, proud of these cakes.

The cakes are, by every estimation, a miserable effort.

I swear to god, I’m an excellent cook, but I am baking-challenged. I am baking-deficient. I am the anti-baker. Oh, Julia Child! I have failed you! An entire childhood spent watching your show on public television, and so very little to show for it! Only this:

Mmmmmm....... Food coloring......

Here they are in all their gloppy glory. Do not laugh. I shed tears for these. Sweat too, but not blood. At least, I’m pretty sure.

Really, I blame my husband for this. For giving me the idea. For working so hard that I felt that I needed to increase my contribution. I needed to match. I needed to justify myself. I blame my husband for the fact that, when one fell and exploded on the floor with a sickening schllllllurlp, I honestly thought that I could fix it. “I’m sure it’s salvageable,” my Betty-Crockered brain whispered as I gazed at the crumbly goo on the ground.

And I believed it.

This is Ted’s fault.

Ted, my darling husband (god bless his infernal self) who came up with the idea.

“It’ll be fun,” he said.

“The kids’ll love it,” he said.

“Look! Here’s a website! It looks easy!”

He did not, I found out later watch the helpful video that was on the website:

Still I did it. I even have photographic evidence. Look:

Here I am, looking oddly crazy-eyed.




And now they exist. And they are messy. And lopsided. And gloppy. And honestly, not that good. But the kids will like them.


Or, they better like them, anyway.

Congratulations Team Lego Pandemonium and Team Sonic! You guys are AWESOME!

(have some cake!)

7 thoughts on “LEGO CAKES!

  1. I think it was the impossible task (you know, like the unforgivable curse?). I’m no mean baker myself (all hail Julia Child *raises hands to the heavens) and I couldn’t have done it. And they look as good as the picture from the helpful website so don’t knock your effort. Plus kids- not very mean critics when it comes to cake, sugar and food coloring.

  2. I’m a lousy baker, but I’m a dab hand at making things. It comes from building radio control airplanes.

    The trick is you need to flatten the tops. The easiest way to do this is with two pieces of wood that are identical to the height you want, and set on either side of the cake. Then you rest a long knife on the wood pieces, and use them as a guide to cut off the top. I just went through my old photos and saw that the last time I did this, I used two pieces of PVC pipe, taped down to either side of the cake. PVC is actually better than wood for this, the knife slides across the plastic easy, it comes in a variety of sizes (I have a pile of scrap pieces in the garage), and it is easy to clean.

    They probably flattened the little lego tabs, and frosted the cake, before the put the tabs on. That’s what I would have done.

    (I just noticed the video, duh) I would have used biscuit cutters, and made the tabs out of cake, not marshmallow. Cooling the cake was a smart trick, so is crumb-coating (I never saw that before). And I HAVE to own the spatula she was using. It looks more like a knife from my paint box.

  3. I think just watching that video raised my blood pressure. (Really….never trust a cute baker in a hard hat.) When I try to build things out of cake, I always end up with a lopsided, crumb-infested lump. I admire your effort & tenacity – I suspect I would have frosted one marshmallow before sending the rest flying across the room.

    • Seriously, there was frosting EVERYWHERE. And that stuff doesn’t wash off after it dries, so I have these constant, crusty reminders of the many many tears I shed over that crappy, crappy pastry. Sigh.

  4. Having PTSD flashbacks to February 2011 when my youngest convinced me that we could make the Webkinz Inukshuk polar bear cake for her birthday, using marshmellows and white powdered donut holes as cake enhancements. Let’s just say we were grateful that mounds of shredded coconut hides the failings of less talented bakers and decorators!

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