Cake Carrier

I have been eying some retro cake carriers on eBay for some time now. When I make a cake for my office or whatever, I don't have a good means for transporting it.

Quite often the kinds that I have liked on eBay the most have been going for $30 + S&H. Not that I've been opposed to the amount, just figured I could find a score of my own by frequenting an antique-type shops that we have a few of in Wheeling.

I was mentioning my quest for a vintage cake carrier to Mom when I was home a couple of weekends ago. She suggested we go into her basement to look for one that might have been Buddy's (my grandmother, Daddy's mom) or Aunt Maple's (my great aunt, Daddy's aunt.)

SCORE! It needed some TLC, but I was in business!

Daddy doesn't remember this, so we're guessing that it was Aunt Maple's.

Here's what I started out with (after it was washed and I took a Brillo pad to it):


I liked the retro chef with his wood-stoked grill, so I wanted to preserve it as best as I could. (From this picture you can see how yucky the inside of the carrier was.)

Finding a paint that wasn't a blindingly bright yellow was nearly impossible (most likely because I have the patience of a gnat and wanted the instant gratification...wasn't willing to shop all over the place for spray paint.) Anyway, I ended up going with an almond color that had a satin finish.

I wanted the bottom and the carrier part to be black to match the knobs and the chef.

Here's the finished product! I love it...and can't wait to make a yummy cake that I need to transport somewhere! (The top is for either a cake server or cookies, I guess.)

Hopefully this will make for more pleasant thoughts of my Great Aunt Maple than the couple of memories that I have. I'm sure she was a fine lady and all, but about all I can remember of her is visiting her in a nursing home when I was maybe grade school age...and random "old people" that I didn't know that would try to grab my hand and thought I was there to see them. In my head, it seems that we went to visit with her every weekend, but I'm sure Mom and Daddy will correct me upon reading this. Quite traumatic for a small child.