I have a bad habit of looking at on-screen things that are patently inedible and saying to myself “I could make a GOOD version of that.” Although, if you’ve been following my series of AI Weirdness cookies, you know that already. (Gotta post the other ones I’ve got stored up.) This time, my brain decided to take on THIS monstrosity:
Technically, in the Cooking Simulator game it comes from, this is a cookie. A sprinkle cookie, to be exact, lovingly made by Josh of Let’s Game it Out with 4.7 kilograms of sprinkles.
If you didn’t include all the broken glass and eggshells he loves to cook with, it would probably be technically edible if it were possible, but to quote The Brain, “Why would you want to?” I’d much prefer to run with the concept, and with the blueberries and lime curd he found in the virtual pantry during the decoration phase, and make something spectacular for GOOD reasons. Without the bacon, eggs, or unibrow. Although you’re welcome to put them on your version if you like.
So it’s got to have some element of cookie. Shortbread is a classic dessert base and I still had a stick of Kerrygold hanging around. It turned out to be only enough for half a recipe, but thanks to my coming-out-even superpower, that was exactly the amount I needed.
Construct a star to fit in a 9-inch round pan, fold some nice crisp lines into the parchment to hold its shape, mold the dough, stab with a fork, and stuff foil spacers in the empty spaces.
Bake, and remove carefully to a nice flat plate.
I’d never made citrus curd for the purpose of citrus curd before this, only for meringue pie filling. I picked a recipe from the BBC which turned out great. Would’ve been even better if I’d listened the first time a bubble worked its way up from the depths of the pan, but the curd didn’t end up breaking and I was going to strain it anyway. The remnants were delicious, even with the teeny bits of scrambled eggs. Still, I don’t blame anyone who just buys a jar of Mackay’s.
Blueberry filling was easy: bag of frozen berries, some sugar, cook to a boil, thicken.
Only problem was, I didn’t know how much a bag of frozen blueberries had shrinkflated (flateshrunk?) over time, or how much difference that would make regarding proportions, so using a recipe was going to be more of a pain than I was after. So I did my time-tested method of educated winging-it, readying more cornstarch slurry than I might possibly need, and ending up with a thick filling that just might not melt the frosting dam between the cake layers. MIGHT.
I decided to use a higher-butter frosting this time than I usually do, in hopes of avoiding the problem I had last time I made a fruit-filled cake…we will see.
Next: cake. Green funfetti-style cake. I have a giant and diverse sprinkle box, and many of the variants just don’t get used. In true LGIO fashion, this is their time to shine. Or dissolve. Whatever.
Some green food coloring, just enough to look a little weird.
Bake, cool, wrap in plastic wrap, refrigerate. I ended up making a second template from a donut box, traced from the finished cookie, and cutting the cake layers directly through the wrap. I don’t know if it was the high-quality knife, the refrigeration, the plastic wrap, or the fact that I made the cake with King Arthur when it really wanted White Lily, but I’ve never had an easier time cutting cake to shape. Yes, the layers were a little flat and dense, but very tasty. Even if they did look like carpet padding.
Spread lime curd over the shortbread.
In retrospect, I should have put a thin icing dam around the edge, it being that this filling is much thinner than the blueberries and getting weighed down by more cake. I did put some around it later, but the seepage was already done. Fortunately, it didn’t prove to be a big problem.
Stack one cake layer on top. Icing dam (not as good as Mimo’s, but I’ve never seen her do a star) and fill with blueberries.
Second layer on top, matching the orientation of the stars. I’d trimmed the bottom one due to some serious overhang, but only after it was on the curd, so I couldn’t easily match the other layer. What I should have done was put them both on the cookie, dry and still wrapped, and done the trimming with them stacked. Then take a little nick out of one of the points to make them easier to match up but not harder to frost. Crumb coat, then back into the fridge.
Underneath all the food dye and bacon and eggs, Josh’s cookie is actually white on top and black around the edges, which is right out. So I’m going to imitate the original color of the cookie and tint the rest of the frosting with 2-3 drops of green food coloring, just enough to know it has a color. Frost the chilled cake, thinly so as not to oversweet the profile. Don’t frost the top, but put another dam around the top edge, blending the outer side of it with the general icing.
Sprinkles! I knew I needed them, but I wasn’t about to coat the whole thing. (Unlike Josh, I like my diners.) The answer: a mini shovel-spoon.
I’m not sure if it was saved from gelato or Popin Cookin, but it worked a treat. Spoon up some sprinkles, set the flat edge against the cake, tip it up and press. If I’d drawn a line at a consistent height instead of just eyeballing, it could have been seriously professional. Which is hard to do when little balls of sugar are bouncing literally all over your kitchen table. Do yourself a favor and set down a big fluffy towel that you can shake into the sink. And be prepared to vacuum anyway.
Fill the center with a nice layer of lime curd, and top that with fresh blueberries.
So how did it taste? Let’s just say I’d have gotten bad reviews on the time, but full marks for flavor. I will definitely consider doing this again for some special occasion, but with a ROUND cake.
I did have both curd and blueberry filling left over, which looked like enough for exactly an 8-inch cake; and if I hadn’t sent some of the box of blueberries to school with my son I’d have had enough in the 12-oz container to top one that size too. As it was, my superpower worked on the frosting and the fresh berries, so I was pretty happy.
You know what, Grace, back off. This is MINE.