Making a King Cake...

So, in my stupidity, I decided to make a King Cake to bring in the festivities for Mardi Gras. I looked online for a recipe that SEEMED easy, and I went for it on Sunday afternoon. Joseph helped me with the eggs:



He even learned how to separate the eggs from the yolks. Yes...I WILL teach this kid to cook, even if he doesn't eat anything that he cooks.

And this is what we ended up with. Interesting, to say the least. I will NEVER EVER make one of these things again. It was hard. Our kitchen isn't big enough to roll out all of the dough. I also felt like I was single-handedly increasing the cholesterol and heart disease of whomever tried a piece.


I brought it into the office, and shared with my co-workers. One of the survey guys ended up with the marble. (I didn't use a baby, partly because the thought of a plastic baby inside the cake is kind of skeevy...but mostly because I couldn't find a plastic baby). So, he was King for the day, which didn't really amount to much. However, in Pre-Christian times, there was a King Cake ritual which decided who the King for the year would be. At the end of the year, the tribe sacrificed him and spread his blood over the fields to ensure a good harvest. Ew. Disgusting, yet somehow interestingly macabre.

No, we won't be sacrificing him, unless we really need some landscaping to grow on the medians or something...