Cherpumple Part 2: Completing the Ultimate Structural Baking Challenge

In case you missed part 1 of the Great Cherpumple Development of 2010, you should read it before you read this post. Then you’ll understand why I made a 10.5” diameter monstrosity of cake, pie and frosting that stands 7.5” tall.

Well, you probably still won’t. But aren’t you the nosy one, reading about it anyway?

So we left off with all the pie-cake layers complete. This is the point where most cherpumple makers just used pre-made cream cheese frosting.

But not me. I mean, I made the pies and cakes from scratch! And really, how hard is it to gather up a little softened butter and cream cheese?

And once you’ve done that, it’s super easy to whip it together.

After doing that, adding some powdered sugar, vanilla, and salt is easy.

So I made my own frosting for this thing. Not a big deal.

Then I had to start assembling this thing. This is where things can go wrong in the structural stability department. To avoid this, I’d frozen the layers individually for two days, but I was still unsure. But there’s nothing to do but plow ahead like a crazy woman, so I got out a prepared cake board.

Then I spread some cream cheese frosting on the bottom.

This was to anchor the first layer: the spice cake with a pumpkin pie baked in.
I put cream cheese frosting on top of that layer.

Because I needed something to hold the yellow cake with an apple pie baked in.

And that, layer, of course, needed cream cheese frosting on top of it.

And to finish it off, a white cake with a cherry pie baked into it.

I then wrapped THE WHOLE THING and froze it for a full day, thus allowing the frosting to better anchor the layers together. The next day, I pulled it out along with more cream cheese frosting, and frosted up the sides and top.

And there, ladies and gents, is a cherpumple. Made from scratch. Don’t forget to go to Jenna’s blog to bid on it and make it your very own.

Now before we call that a wrap, several people have asked questions about this process, and I want to answer them.

• First, how much did this &)*^%*& thing cost to make? I saved receipts, and estimate $36. Totally worth it for the experience. You should do it, too.
• Second, how much time did I waste, er, spend on this? As far as actually creating it goes, it took about twelve hours, though some of that time was baking time when I could do things around my apartment, but couldn’t leave because the oven was on. Again, totally worth it.

And a few other things I want you to know about. Specifically, I want you to know that while making this cherpumple, the following things DEFINITELY did not happen:

• I did not set off my smoke alarm. Nope.
• I did not contemplate calling it quits while the first pie-cake was baking.
• No way did I eat a dinner composed mostly of cream cheese frosting.
• I certainly didn’t break a springform pan at 6:15 am.
• There’s no chance that I almost called my mom to whine afterwards.
• I most definitely did not spend most of a 60 minute medical scan thinking about how to approach frosting the cherpumple while optimizing its structural integrity.
• My friend who observed part of the cherpumple making did not spend half an hour debating different ways to make a chocolate version of this beast. We had other things to talk about. Honestly.

So there you have it. A chermpumple, from scratch, from start to finish. Now go bid on it.

Cherpumple Part 1: An Exercise of Epic Baking

At times, we all do things we aren’t proud of. I’m sure that, for example, Ronald Reagan would prefer to forget that whole Iran-Contra thing. And in retrospect, Martha Stewart would probably be a little more precise about her answers to questions about stock trading. It happens to all of us.

And this weekend, I did something I’m not very proud of.

I made a cherpumple.

That three layer dessert which involves one layer of spice cake containing a pumpkin pie, one layer of yellow cake containing an apple pie, and one layer of white cake containing a cherry pie. All surrounded with cream cheese frosting. It's a spectacle that doesn't belong in my kitchen

The motivation for this? It all started on Jenna’s blog. You should read about it there, where you, yes you, can also bid on this very cherpumple and make it your own.

Also, since a cherpumple involves no chocolate, I will make this a post about chocolate by giving you a link Jenna’s recipe for Sweet and Salty Thumbprint Cookies. This recipe include bittersweet chocolate AND unsweetened cocoa powder. It's a win all around.

So now that we’ve officially made this a post about chocolate, how, yes how, does one make a cherpumple? The inventor, Charles Phoenix cheats and uses store bought pies and cake mixes. Not me.

I made pie crust from scratch.

Then made pies from scratch.

I wrapped them tightly and froze them, because this makes it appreciably easier to move the pie into the pan for baking.

You may notice that I baked the pies in disposable cake pans. Why cake pans? Because the edges are vertical, which I figured would be better for structural integrity of the final stack. I also used cake pans because I found 8” disposable cake pans, which means that when I used my 10” springform pan to bake the pie-cake layers, I would have 1” of pure cake all around the edges. Also good for structure.

After the pie baking was complete, I started making cakes. Again, from scratch.

As in, I did the whole butter-sugar creaming thing.

And added in dry ingredients that I mixed myself.

I baked a stand-alone layer of about 2 cups of batter in a 10” springform pan lined with parchment paper at 350° F for 20 minutes; the purpose of doing this was to ensure that I had a solid mass of cake in each layer.

It is worth noting that if you make a cherpumple, especially if you do so by making pies and cakes from scratch, and spend a good amount of time talking about the process and modifications you are making to optimize structural integrity, your friends and family will worry about you. One of them might come over to check on you and eat some leftover chili.

While said friend is visiting, it’s completely socially acceptable to work on baking one of the pie-cake layers. I checked. And then I spread a little batter at the bottom of a 10” springform pan lined with parchment paper.

Then, as my slightly horrified friend watched, I dropped a pie on top of the batter.

I poured the remaining batter around the pie edges and on top of the pie.

Then it baked at 350° F for NINETY MINUTES. That’s how much of a monstrosity each layer is.

I chilled this layer to ensure that it would be easier to work with, placed it on top of the previously-baked layer, and tightly wrapped them in plastic wrap before freezing them.

Oh, and I did this three times. Three pies from scratch. Three homemade batches of cake batter. Three sessions of baking a pie into a cake.

My friend is still worried about me.

And I haven’t even posted about the frosting and assembly process. That post shows up on Thursday. Stay tuned, and in the meantime, go to Jenna’s blog to bid on this beauty.