A foray in fondant

Corey likes my craft projects.

He asks me, "Are you an artist?"

I laugh.  An artist is someone who is talented and dedicated.

I have a Martha Stewart magazine and tons of glue.

And that's how I prefer it.  Artists have to hone their trade.  Perfect it.  Live off it.  As a simple crafter, the pressure is just not there.  I can make lopsided felt balls while watching Law and Order.  I can paint over dust particles and dog hair that land on my gourds.  I can dabble in many different mediums. 

Oh, and dabble I do.  I've had my hands in clay, paint, wires, felt, paper, fabric, food, computer graphics, and sometimes a combination of them all.  The list gets goofier if I include projects for my art classes in college (pizza boxes, eyelash curler, doll hair, etc.).

Last week, my dabbling brought me to the world of cake decorating.  With fondant.  The Hideki Matsui* of decorating mediums.  Now, I am no stranger to cake, but up to this point my decorating experience was limited to whatever design I could swirl around with my knife in the Duncan Hines frosting before I face planted, mouth open, into the middle of the thing.

I let things get out of hand sometimes.

So with limited (read: no) knowledge of the deliciously sticky fondant and no time to spare for a do-over, I began to knead it, and color it, and knead it, and knead it, and roll it, and curse at it, and knead it, and roll it, and cut it. 

And then I had to make it fit on a round cake.

And then I got to play with different colors.

I made flowers and eventually my sister's nickname, Berlie. (it was her birthday)

It was lovely.

And then we chopped it up and ate it.  Pretty cake taste good.

*It's a sad day in girl world when thinking of analogies brings me to sports references.  Matsui is only the best (former, sadly) Yankee ever.  In the world.