It started, like many good stories do, with a simple craving—and a whisk. What began as a way to unwind became a full-on love affair with sugar, spice, and everything nice. For me, cake making isn’t just baking—it’s storytelling. It’s therapy. It’s edible art.
There’s something magical about taking flour, eggs, and butter and turning them into something that not only tastes like comfort but looks like wonder. Whether it’s a pumpkin pie crowned with buttery autumn leaves, a koi pond cake swirling with painted buttercream fish, or a succulent-topped naked cake that could fool a florist, I pour a little bit of myself into each one.
I’m drawn to the details—the ruffled edges, the careful piping, the moment someone sees it and gasps before taking a bite. That’s the best part: creating something beautiful that disappears because it was too good to leave untouched.
Cake making is my happy place. It lets me celebrate, reflect, and dream—layer by layer, petal by piped petal.
So if you ever find me in the kitchen, covered in powdered sugar and humming to myself, just know—I’m busy turning feelings into frosting.
When your pie crust is giving peak autumn but your filling is feeling a little… dramatic. Still delicious, even with a flair for the crack-tical.
Swimmingly sweet birthday vibes—complete with koi, candles, and a current of buttercream. Yes, I painted my cake. No, I don’t accept commissions (yet).
Not your average garden variety dessert. Edible succulents, whisper of spice, and a whole lotta frosting love.
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