Two preschoolers wearing bright yellow rain boots splashed in a puddle in front of Torte as I rounded the corner. Their mom shot me an apologetic smile when I ducked to avoid their spray. I grinned and waved. “Looks like fun.”
She held up a paper coffee cup and scooted under the awning. “At least I have one of your warm coffees to keep me company while these two do their rain dance.”
I wondered what she was drinking. Andy, our head barista and college student, had earned a reputation around town as a coffee mixologist. His drink creations were unique and craveworthy. The bell hanging above the front door jingled as I stepped inside. A line snaked past the pastry case to the espresso bar where Andy was pulling shots and chatting with customers. Mom cut between the line with a tray of panini in her arms.
“Hey, boss,” Andy said as I squeezed past the espresso machine. “It’s heating up in here. Everyone wants to escape the rain.”
“What are you making this afternoon?” I asked.
He carefully poured steamed milk into a mug using a silver spoon to create a leaf pattern out of the foam on top. “I’m going old-school for lunch today. A classic. Double latte with extra foam and a just a dash of brown sugar.”
Usually, Andy’s coffee drinks were unique flavor combinations. I was surprised that he was going for such a simple drink. Not that I was complaining. There’s nothing better than a smooth latte with rich espresso in my opinion.
I leaned close to him and whispered. “Is this because we’ve already started to pack everything up?”
He grinned and winked. “Maybe.”
“Nice.” I gave him a half salute of approval and headed for the back. Part of running a small business is knowing how to market, and Andy had that down. I grabbed a clean apron from the rack and tugged off my rain jacket, then I washed my hands and checked on our chocolate progress.
Stephanie stood at the stove stirring melted chocolate in a double boiler.
“How’s it going?” I asked, dipping my pinkie into the pan to check the consistency of the chocolate. It had a gorgeous, lovely sheen. “This looks ready.”
“Cool. I was going to ask your mom if I should start dipping.” Stephanie wore her jet-black hair streaked with violet in two shoulder-length braids.
“Yeah, it looks good to me.” I motioned to the stack of marzipan squares assembled on the counter. “You’ve got the technique down, right?”
Stephanie nodded and demonstrated the chocolate-dipping technique I had showed her yesterday. Once the marzipan was coated in a thick layer of shiny chocolate she placed it on parchment paper. “Good?”
“Perfect.” I gave her a thumbs-up. “Only—what? Five hundred more to go.”
“Great.” She rolled her eyes and scowled. I knew that she wasn’t serious.
“It could be worse,” I said as I rolled up my sleeves. “I could put you on fondant duty.”
Chocolate dripped from Stephanie’s hand as she plunged another marzipan square into the creamy mixture. “No way. Never again. I loathe that stuff.”
“I promise it’s not that bad once you get used to it.”
Stephanie shook her head. “Maybe for you, but that stuff kills me. No, thanks. I’ll stick with dipping chocolate.”
“Don’t fear the fondant,” I teased, reaching under the island and grabbing a bucket of white fondant.
Stephanie pretended to jump. “Don’t bring that any closer to me.”
“Bring what?” Mom interrupted our conversation.
“Mom, we have failed our young staff.”
“How?” Mom placed an empty tray in the sink. Her brown eyes held a look of concern.
“Stephanie is afraid of fondant.”
A look of relief washed over Mom’s face. “Oh, whew, you had me worried for a moment.” She walked to Stephanie and wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “I’m with you, Stephanie. I have nightmares about fondant.”
“Hey!” I plopped a mound of fondant on the countertop. “Don’t encourage her fear. Fondant is a cake artist’s canvas.”
Mom wrinkled her brow. “And it’s a nightmare to work with. You are professionally trained, Juliet. You have to remember that all of us novice bakers learned to decorate cakes the old-fashioned way, with generous layers of buttercream and pastry bags.”
I sprinkled the countertop with cornstarch and then coated my hands with Crisco. Over the years I’ve experimented with different combinations when rolling out and cutting fondant, from using powdered sugar to clear vinyl mats. Cornstarch and Crisco are my secret weapons when it comes to fondant work. The cornstarch magically disappears into the fondant, and the Crisco acts as a barrier so my hands don’t stick to it. I use a rolling pin so the fondant doesn’t clump together. Many professional bakeries have fondant sheeter machines that automatically roll the dough into thin pliable sheets. We don’t use enough fondant at Torte to warrant the cost of a professional dough roller. Plus, it’s a great arm workout.
“You know I love working with buttercream too, but there’s no need to be afraid of fondant. There are some pretty amazing designs that you just can’t create structurally with frosting,” I said, starting to roll out a long sheet. Fondant has a tendency to dry out and crack easily, so it’s important to work quickly and continually lift and rotate the sheet as you go.
The fondant began to stretch as I rolled it in alternating directions and smoothed it with my hands.
“How did you do that so fast?” Mom’s brown eyes widened as she watched me.
“I’m telling you, it’s so easy to use. You both just have to get over your fondant phobia.”
“Or we give all the fondant work to her, right Stephanie?” Mom grinned.
Stephanie nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that.”
“You two are no fun.” I brushed cornstarch from my hands. In reality it didn’t matter if Mom and Stephanie mastered the art of fondant work. Most of the cakes and pastries we crafted at Torte were designed with buttercream. We didn’t drape our cakes in fondant like some bakeries. Fondant doesn’t add any flavor to the cake. I always recommend that clients remove the fondant before eating a slice of one of our many rich and moist cakes. However, I did want to add some three-dimensional accents to our showpiece cakes at the Chocolate Fest and fondant was my best option.
I dusted the entire sheet with gold powder and waited for it to dry. Then I planned to hand-cut a delicate leaf pattern from the fondant. I would frost our triple-layer chocolate cake with chocolate buttercream frosting and dark chocolate ganache and adorn it with the gold leaves. If the vision I had for the cake in my head was executed properly it should be a stunning centerpiece for the Chocolate Fest and hopefully attract some new wedding accounts.
Mom watched over my shoulder as I ran the tip of a carving knife over the gold sheet of fondant. I wanted to trace the pattern before I made any cuts.
“That is amazing, honey. You really are skilled.” Her thin hands ran across the dough.
“It’s my way of making art. I don’t do it enough, but I’m hoping that’s all going to change if we can pull in some more wedding business.”
Mom wiped down the far side of the island and began assembling butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla. “If all of your cakes look as beautiful as these we’ll probably end up with more cake orders than we can manage.” She motioned to the cakes that I had finished yesterday. One was a five-layer square chocolate cake. I had frosted each layer by alternating chocolate buttercream with white lace piping and French vanilla buttercream with dark chocolate lace piping. The piping work had taken hours and left my fingers numb, but the result was dramatic. I was pleased with the elegant design and glad that Mom was too. The second cake was “naked,” as we call it in the business. The sides of the cake are the star of the show in naked designs. Instead of covering the entire cake with buttercream, naked cakes expose each layer. My naked cake would be a three-tiered round chocolate spice cake with mocha spice buttercream filling. I planned to roughly frost it with vanilla icing in order to let each layer shine. I would use it to demonstrate a variety of piping techniques during our vendor showcase.
In addition to the five-layer square and the three-layer gold leaf design, I was also going to create a more modern look with multiple smaller tiered chocolate cakes displayed on log slices and enhanced with fresh pine boughs and edible Oregon berries. We were also bringing tasting samples of our family recipe for chocolate cake, the marzipans that Stephanie was dipping, and chocolate pasta. The Chocolate Festival opened to the public tomorrow afternoon, and we had to be there early to set up. We had hours of work to finish, and if we didn’t pick up the pace we might be here all night.
“Speaking of more business, how did the meeting with Rosalind go?” Mom asked. She tucked her brown bob behind her ears. I might be biased, but she is one of the most beautiful women I know. She prefers clogs and comfortable clothing to high fashion or heels, but somehow manages to exude a simple elegance in whatever she wears.
“Good.” I concentrated on my leaf design. “She thinks we have a really good shot at one of the grants.”
“And?” Mom raised her brow as she creamed butter and sugar in a large mixing bowl by hand.
“And.” I looked up and met her gaze. “If we decide to move forward it will mean starting demolition right away. Remodeling must be completed by July.”
“July!” Mom almost shouted.
“Yeah.” I frowned. “I don’t know. What do you think? I’m so torn. I don’t know that we’ll get a financial opportunity like this again, but are we ready?”
Mom paused and looked thoughtful for a minute. She tasted her butter and sugar mixture then smiled at me. “We’re always ready for anything.”