Dorothy Parker's Ashes

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Dude, Let’s Surf the Cake

Stephany Buswell

Word Count 501

One day, the natural foods bakery where I worked in Santa Cruz, California received an order for a six foot long cake in the shape of a surfboard. The year was 1975, the cake was for the 24 year old son of Jack O’Neill, the creator of the surfing wetsuit. Everybody had heard of the family so when we got the order, we were thrilled. One problem. We had never made anything like this before.

The first quandary —what were we going to put it on? They told us they would bring a board big enough for it. They brought us a door.

They ordered a banana cake with cream cheese frosting. Well, cream cheese frosting was our only frosting because we didn't use sugar, only honey.

We baked three full sheet cakes and, after covering the door with paper, we placed the sheet cakes end to end.

I had to figure out how to make the fin and carve the cake evenly to create the pointed ends. We made the fin from cardboard, covered it in foil, and then slathered frosting on it. We found a picture of the oval-shaped O'Neill logo and drew it in the center with stripes coming from the sides to the end of the board. We used the cream cheese frosting and natural food colors to achieve this. It needed  something more. Fresh flowers didn't seem appropriate. Someone suggested green marijuana leaves. We put one at each corner of the logo, and it looked fantastic. We placed an orange slice for the sun and a real shell to give it more of an ocean feel. 

We borrowed a baker’s pickup with a cover on the back and loaded it up. When we arrived, the party was raging. The house was filled with hundreds of very drunk surfer guys and gals. A couple of hunky guys came out and carried the board into the house, inviting us in. They gave us each a beer and we stood in the corner of the largest room, waiting to see the cake be presented to the birthday boy.

Out walked two tall blonde long haired surfers, one on each end holding the cake door. Everyone started singing and cheering. The man of the hour then grabbed a bottle of red wine, said he was christening the cake and proceeded to pour the entire bottle over it. We were mortified.

He shouted at the presenters to put the cake down on the floor. He threw off his flip flops and jumped on the cake to surf it. My co-worker and I looked at each other,, “Let's get out of here!” I said. As we tried to squeeze through the crowd to make our escape, the birthday boy’s mom came in and told them to put the cake on the table to be served. As they picked it up, the guests started grabbing hands full of cake and stuffing it in their faces.

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Stephany has been telling her life stories for, well, as long as she has been on earth. Raised in San Francisco Peninsula and coming to Santa Cruz in 1970 as a happy hippie with no direction, she managed to find a passion in baking that directed her life. Beginning in natural foods baking she ended her career working at one of the premier culinary colleges in the country. Her journey has been both challenging and creative but always tasty. Her Memoir, Tasting Life Twice, is available on Amazon.