JB and I were married four years ago in July. Our anniversary happened to be on a weekday, so instead of doing the fancy restaurant dinner thing (we finally got around to that a few weeks later), I made lasagna, put it on our best china, and we toasted with an inexpensive bottle of champagne we'd brought back from France.
Then it was time. Time to do something we'd forgotten to do on our first anniversary, and then kept avoiding on our second and third anniversaries.
Time to get the top of our wedding cake out of the freezer.
Yes. It had been sitting in our freezer for four years.
When we finally got it open, it looked...
But the real question: how did it taste? Duh, you know we had to find out. And I made sure the momentous occasion was photographed in case one of us died later:
It was a while later, after we joked and took a few more pictures, that I finally made a confession: I couldn't bear to just dump it in the trash. I loved how beautiful the cake looked on our wedding day, and in a way it's one of our last tangible reminders of our wedding. Well, other than the hundreds of photos, a large album of mementos including our program and invitation, plus a quilt JB's aunt is making for us from swatches of fabric signed by our guests... but still. I couldn't throw it away. And JB admitted he didn't like the idea of it going in the trash can, either.
So maybe it was the champagne or our recent enthusiasm for gardening with compost, but we hit on an idea: bury it!
People get buried...why not cakes? Plus it will eventually biodegrade and return to the earth from whence it came and all that. Much, much more pleasant thought than it moldering in a nasty landfill.
Anyway, JB got the shovel, I got the cake, and we processed into the back yard. I wanted to plant it near some stepping stones so we'd always know where it was, but JB insisted that it is a very real possibility a magnificent tree (a cake tree?) will grow from the spot where it's buried, so we should put it further out in the yard so said tree will have room to flourish. He may be a scifi-loving engineer, but he's got a romantic side, too.
JB won out, and we picked a spot near our veggie garden. He dug the hole:
And I held the cake:
We then said a few words about our wedding, and the cake, and, well...it was silly and mushy and sweet. Then we placed the cake in the ground...
and covered it back up.
A cake tree has not sprouted yet. I'm thinking next spring, maybe.