Fondant Flowers: You Gotta Start Somewhere

As a self-taught baker, there are so many aspects of the sugar arts that are completely beyond my realm of knowledge and capability, such as how to make lifelike fondant flowers.  I won't swear off that I couldn't eventually learn (with lots and lots of time and patience and practice and visits to google and youtube and pinterest for guidance), but when you compare my present-day work with a true expert... well, there's simply no comparing.

Take Ron Ben-Israel's wedding cakes for example.  I won't even attempt to add valuable commentary.  Just feast your eyes on these works of art.

Pretty awe-inspiring, aren't they?  These flowers look just-picked from the most perfect, pristine garden in the world.  But NO.  They are made out of SUGAR.  Sugar!!

So.  What does that mean for a mere mortal like me?  Well, it means I have something to aspire to.  

I suppose if I had a trust fund, I could take Ron's flower classes when he graces Canada with his presence at a bakery called Flour Confections in Pickering, Ontario, just an hour or so from where we live in Port Credit.

But since that's not happening anytime soon, I have to start somewhere.  

I was asked by my aunt-in-law to make a birthday cake for a friend back in April.  We settled on a classic horizontal striped cake with an oversized yellow flower adorning the top.

I tightly bunched green fondant petals as the center of the blossom, to be surrounded by yellow petals.

Yes, some more subtle ombré shading between green and yellow would have been lovely.  And yes, I should have thinned out the edges of each petal quite a bit more.  And this is where I am learning as I go.

Here's the finished product after layering on more yellow petals.

I am also learning how heavy fondant flowers become as they grow larger, and that they need an incredibly long time to dry, even with tylose powder kneaded in to form gumpaste.  That core of petals layered over petals means there is a hulking mass of fondant that just wants to revel in its own humidity.

As I am reminded over and over in this life, the more I learn about something, the more I realize I don't know, which gives me tremendous respect for those rare people who have mastered their craft.