Or I guess I should say—what in the sea?
I recently came across this cake pan online, a unique piece of baking equipment that effectively combines my most favorite thing in the world (cake) with my least favorite thing: heinous beasts from the deep with tentacles.
Look. I can understand making a cake that looks like a castle, a clown, or a toy car. Barbie is cool, and so is Winnie the Pooh. Or even a turkey with red lipstick. (Er, sorry Noodlr, I take it back about the turkey with lipstick.) But I don’t understand what kind of event where a cake in the shape of an octopus would be appropriate.
Sure, if you were celebrating someone’s graduation from marine biology school or to fête some dude who at-long-last, conquers his fear of evil tentacled creatures from the deep. But I don’t think there are that many of those kinds of celebrations to warrant a company going through the trouble to fabricate, produce, and market an octopus cake pan. I could never imagine owning one. Ever.
Except today, I woke up thinking about it.
And did I say that I went to bed thinking about it, too?
I mean, who on earth, or in the sea, would want a pan like that? And where would I store it? My kitchen is about the size of a changing room at Ross Dress for Less (although with a bit more charm, no pins on the floor, and more flattering lighting) and I have no where to put this monstrosity. I could have one shipped, but for $30 for the pan, plus $50 for the shipping—plus $65 in customs fees. And how would I explain what it was to the customs officials anyways?
“Mais oui monsieur. C’est un moule à poulpe…pour un gâteau, bien sûr.”
Somehow, I don’t think so.
So I’m going without. But if I’m still thinking about it morning, noon, and night a few weeks from now, when I make a quick trip to the US, I may just pick one up. I’m afraid I’m becoming obsessed with it. I don’t know how they managed to reel me in with this kooky cake pan, but I think they’ve got me—hook, line & sinker.