Frigate Cake

Pimp Daddy would just like to take a moment to say that this is one of the most dedicated, skillful and impressive pimps he has seen to date.

To that end, he’s rated this a rare 10/10. Y’aaaaaaaar!

Avast ye mateys! To the stern she blows!

Late one night on the tube a strumpet of our acquaintance was giving us a full broadside about our cooking skills. As a challenge, and due to a complete obsession with sailing ships, we proclaimed that for her birthday in two weeks there would be present the most massive and impressive birthday cake she had ever seen, in the shape of an 18th century frigate. A few days later, a friend pointed us at this website. It was fated.

Much experimentation had to be done. The first problem was the mast, which called for something pretty solid, but of course edible. A quick trip to the sweet shop brought home some ‘cables’ – very long and thick coloured cylinders however a bit on the floppy side. How to harden them? In the true spirit of scientific enquiry we put one in the freezer, and one in the oven on low heat, to see what would happen.

Orange tubing bent into a loop on black granite, cut ends showing pale cores

The freezer – the cable went hard for a bit but thawed out pretty quickly. Not a success.

The oven – on low heat the cable melted into one big sticky gooey mess. Despite the first mate pointing out that after we had scraped the muck out of the oven it was, in fact, much harder, the phrase ‘unmitigated disaster’ could still be heard.

Idea two – solid chocolate! Back to the sweet shop for some of Cadbury’s finest. Now, what to use as a mould? A genius purchase in Sainsbury’s held promise – a £2.99 plastic cricket set, containing three hollow plastic cricket stumps!

Unopened junior cricket set, orange plastic stumps and two red balls in the packaging

Cut one end of stump. Melt chocolate, taking careful note of the bowl-in-the-pot-of-water technique perfected on this site. pour into stump. Have celebratory drink and retire. Ignore suggestions from first mate’s girlfriend who pointed out that getting solid chocolate mast out of the mould may be a problem, and make bet regarding likely success.

Hand gripping a single orange plastic cricket stump to show its length

Next morning – first mate owes girlfriend five pounds. The cutting out expedition is an unmitigated disaster – neither the pouring-hot-water-over-it idea or the cutting-away-the-mould idea prevented the result looking remarkably like the lower digestive tract. Morale takes a blow but the fighting spirit lives on. Back to the drawing board.

Stump split open lengthways with a long chocolate rod moulded inside the orange plastic

Revelation – when at first you don’t succeed, cheat. Decide that the final masts shall be the original cables, with bamboo sticks shoved up them to give rigidity. One day to go – time to get cracking! A last trip to the sweet store for truly enormous bag of sweets containing cables, licorice ropes, licorice cannons, and various sea creatures.

Victoria sponge is decided on as the cake of choice. First mate retrieves ingredients, cake tins, etc and proceeds to mix up a storm.

Butter and sugar creamed in a glass bowl with flour and eggs, loaf tins waiting

Smooth cake batter in the mixing bowl beside two empty loaf tins on black granite

The Captain, who isn’t present, hears reports about cakes not coming out of tins in one piece and impending disaster.

Collapsed sponge broken up in its tin, wet crumb scraped out onto a white chopping board

First mate recovers with yet another trip to Sainsbury’s, purchasing several premade madeira cakes. Our cooking reputation takes another blow.

Two salvaged sponge blocks set end to end in a large foil roasting tray

Cake shaping – check! Various jams used as universal glue. A picture of HMS Victory is used as the template.

Model-ship book open at a three-masted Le Soleil Royal, used as the reference

Sponge blocks trimmed to a pointed bow in the foil tray, ship plans alongside

Dark berry jam spread over the trimmed hull, jam jars and a knife beside the tray

Second sponge layer stacked on the jammed hull to build up the deck height

Premade icing is used for the ‘Nelson Chequer’ colour scheme. First, on goes the black. Roll icing. Apply glue liberally. Stick on and pat down. Check!

Hull coated in black icing with the bare sponge deck left showing in the middle

Capain arrives and begins preparation of the rigging. The masts are created and then spars are attached using licorice rope.

Three masts laid out flat from orange candy sticks with cross-spars, skewers and flags nearby

Meanwhile, the first mate is putting the yellow racing stripes on. Makes it go faster!

Yellow icing stripes piped along the black hull sitting in its foil tray

A suitable implement is needed to make cannon shaped holes in the side of the ship – a pen is sacrificed for the greater good and the ship starts to get some armament.

Black icing gun-port squares laid out on the tiled floor beside the striped hull

The tray used was another genius purchase, again £2.99, this time for a disposable barbeque set. The coal, etc is taken out and put away in case we ever need to black up. The cannons are completed, and with a bit more icing the frigate is looking mighty fine.

Gun ports pressed onto the yellow stripes in two rows along the hull side

The captain is working furiously on the masts, figuring out how to attach rice paper sails to the spars using licorice. After a bit of trial and error the mizzen mast is completed.

First orange mast standing on the deck with a paper sail rigged to it

The captain’s sail creation technique improves, and eventually all of the square sails are complete, and the masts are in place! The bowsprit is jammed on, and it’s time to splice the main brace! The licorice rope is run across the top of all the masts.

All three masts up with paper sails and black liquorice rigging above the striped hull

The first mate sets to work applying a previously made huge bowl of green jelly for the sea, while the captain finishes off the sails with a jib and a spanker.

Man tipping a bowl of green jelly into the tray around the fully rigged ship