Wedding Cakes Classical

If you’ve hung around my kitchen for longer than five minutes, you’ll know I get a bit soppy about wedding cakes. Something about the sight of three (or five!) tiers standing tall makes my heart wobble like an overfilled jelly mould. I’ve baked a fair few over the years, and each one has been its own little adventure. One bride once asked for a cake so white it looked like it had fallen straight out of a snowstorm—my apron never recovered.

Classical wedding cakes have this lovely way of looking grand without shouting about it. Smooth icing, soft pearls, neat piping—the things that make you pause for a moment before taking that first slice. And let me tell you, I’ve spent late nights poking tiny royal icing dots until my eyes crossed. My cat, Buttercream (yes, that’s her real name), once knocked an entire tray of sugar flowers off the counter. I sat on the floor surrounded by broken petals, half-laughing, half-crying, and very much questioning my life choices.

But that’s the charm of these cakes—they’re a mix of skill, patience, and the occasional kitchen drama. Couples often ask for flavours they grew up with. One pair wanted lemon sponge because it reminded them of their first picnic date in Hyde Park. Another swore by chocolate fudge so rich you’d swear it was plotting against your waistline. Classical on the outside doesn’t mean boring on the inside, and that’s the bit I love most.

Decorations for these cakes often turn into stories of their own. Fresh flowers are an absolute dream… unless the florist arrives late and you’re stood there holding a hydrangea like it’s your newborn child. Sugar lace can look so delicate it makes guests whisper, even though you know you spent three hours peeling it off silicone mats that refused to behave. And the moment a couple sees their cake? That’s the spark that keeps me baking, even after those marathon nights with flour in my hair and icing sugar in places it absolutely shouldn’t be.

Every wedding cake seems to carry its own quiet personality. Some stand tall and regal. Some look soft and romantic. Some lean a little, usually when humidity decides to be a menace—but with a bit of gentle persuasion (and maybe a muttered prayer), they usually behave in the end.

And honestly, I think that’s why I adore classical wedding cakes so much. They feel like old friends. Reliable, charming, happy to dress up for the occasion, and full of sweet surprises. If you ever bake one at home, just know this: the wobbles, the laughter, the unexpected sugar avalanches—those bits matter just as much as the final slice shared at someone’s happiest moment.