Remember how you have to ask? Well, some of my questions got me absolutely wrong answers. One guy just washes his dishes, and he was sort of rude about my questions. Scratch him right off the list. Even though his cakes are gorgeous, I need a cake that won't get me sick, preferable without an attitude.
The second cake baker was absolutely sweet and wonderful. She gets food allergies, and explained the exact layout of her kitchen and why she couldn't guarantee gluten-free, even if she bought all new equipment. Basically, even if she bought new equipment, she wouldn't have anywhere to keep it safe from all that gluten-y flour dust. I absolutely appreciated her candor, but I was still no closer to a wedding cake.
Cue the emotional breakdown. Over cake. Yes, I know. So trivial, so ridiculous.
To make a long story short, the groom has now assumed all cake responsibilities - at least until we find a baker to meet my needs, that is. Then little miss design nut over here will jump right in. But finding a baker from across the country is not easy at all. Luckily, Mike is really good at asking all the right questions, and he's not one to get emotional over a friggin cake.
He's found at least one dedicated bakery that can do it, and we're ordering some cupcakes to test it out. Until those arrive, we'll have to make do with this:
This cake with a blood-orange buttercream frosting and a blood orange sprinkled with cinnamon sugar and nutmeg, then broiled and cut up to top the cake. Not too shabby.