Take, eat: this is my body

In between being made to watch Eraserhead and smelling of acid bath in college, I read Steven Heller’s essay on the ‘cult of the ugly’. Much of what was written went over my head, except the title. Soon, after poring over family photo albums documenting birthdays of yore, I developed an obsession with ugly cakes. We don’t see much of that these days. Instead of drawing images with a piping bag, there are now printers that print photos in edible ink. People expect realism and perfection from a mixture of sugar, flour, cream and eggs. Or they expect some form of abstract art molded from sheets of chocolate, placed purposefully in random on the icing. But give me a sloppy cake any day. I prefer cakes of a different calibre, the kind that makes you feel something other than this-is-too-pretty-to-be-eaten. And what better way to celebrate than plunging headlong into a generous serving of Jesus cakes?

Let’s start with the birth of Jesus. Here is baby Jesus surrounded by a hedge of ominous thorns, obviously referring to his impending death. The all-caps words in bloody red, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, seems more like an order than a salutation, with ‘happy’ being the operative word. Don’t be sad, you will live for at least 33 years.




Here’s a nativity scene you don’t see every Christmas: palm trees next to pines. The geographical ignorance or irrelevance of its creator is perhaps an attempt at emulating Jesus’ inclusive embrace towards humanity. But note the singular candle stabbed into the cake — instead of a dainty candle that would flicker gently giving off a chiaroscuro effect on the nativity scene, here is an undecorated candle that was probably found at the bottom of a forgotten drawer, saved for an electricity black out that never occurred. But how well does it go with the text on the cake? The creator must be on to something.




The crucifixion is a popular theme. Which is strange considering how the cross itself was an execution tool. If Jesus died on the electric chair, we’d have those on our cakes. Here’s one that makes death sweet: Dole tangerines for Jesus’ limbs, canned pears for his head and torso (which either gives Jesus a musclehead chest or double-D boobs), and canned pineapple for his halo — industrialized food for easy consumption. How very modern. His hair however, is styled ala Bjork, circa ‘Big Time Sensuality’. This makes his face seem angrier — you can vaguely make out the gritted teeth and irate slant of his eyes.




This one is a marzipan Jesus. Contrast this waif to the voluptuous fruitcake Jesus in the previous picture. I guess we have a habit of turning Jesus into who we want him to be. But what is interesting here is the blood. This cake successfully exudes the eeriness of bleeding, teary-eyed statues. A+




This one won first prize in a contest. What I don’t understand is this: is the blue under Jesus’ head his shoulders? If so, where is his neck? Jesus looks absolutely beheaded, like John the Baptist. And what’s up with the goatee bookmarking the page? What’s up with the perfectly tweezed eyebrows? What’s up with the pursed lips? Perhaps it is the creator’s ingenuity of using chocolate coated chow mein noodles for the crown that won her the prize.




One side of his beard is definitely denser than the other. Growth hormones? The silver cloth lends a very sci-fi/disco touch, an aesthetic sadly lacking in most Christian paraphernalia. But be careful though, Jesus’ lazy eyes might following you everywhere, a feat you thought only the Mona Lisa could accomplish.




Thanks to the National Geographic, the Shroud of Turin is one hot piece of winding sheet. Whether a sacred artifact or a fraud, this is a cake that sincere believers and condescending atheists can dig in!




This reminds me of bands such as the Slits, the Raincoats and the Bangles — all-female bands with nouns for names. Here the lead singer is crucified and leaning to her right in a final ditch at sampling the worldly pleasures of Coffee-Mate. Her fellow bandmates are not so desperate; they can give the organic soymilk a pass, calcium enriched or otherwise.




It’s only Easter morning and already there are nuns. This is a fast-growing religion! We see the angel having a bit of fun sliding down the rock (who wouldn’t?), modestly holding his/her/its robe from revealing too much.




A cake for the Easter/Second Coming? Someone has a flair for typography, but sadly, like most amateur icing pipers, the creator failed to estimate the length of the word ‘welcome’. The inconsistent telephone cord text and the bubblegum colors work surprisingly well together, bringing back memories of Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Girls Just Want to Have Fun’ video.




This is my favorite. Jesus in his Second Coming, rides Falcor the Luckdragon from The Neverending Story. Firstly, according to tradition, there is no such thing as luck and the dragon is evil. But Jesus seems positively ecstatic having the ride of his life/afterlife/etc. What a way of making an entrance. “Here I come,” he seems to shout. Suddenly the apocalypse doesn’t sound so terrifying, for better or worse.