The team at Amanda Oakleaf Cakes created what might be the best cake in this galaxy or that galaxy far, far away: an enormous Stormtrooper cake, almost completely edible from boot to helmet. When completely assembled, the Stormtrooper stood 6 feet 4 inches tall, weighed a little bit more than 300 pounds, and fed some 600 sci-fi convention attendees presumably very hungry for dessert after attending panels like “Harry Potter, My Love for You Will Never Die” and “Lightsaber Combat of the Sword Masters.”

Stormtrooper Cake; Credit: Amanda Oakleaf Cakes

Stormtrooper Cake; Credit: Amanda Oakleaf Cakes

According to Amanda Oakleaf's fantastic photo-by-photo documentation of their process, the caked Stormtrooper took a staff of 10 about two weeks to complete. The only inedible parts of the cake were its internal structure and the copper tubing soldered together for the fingers in the Stormtrooper's left hand as it waived to the crowd.

Other than that, this generic soldier in Lord Vader's army was a combination of Rice Krispies treats (for the legs and base of the helmet) and yellow cake and vanilla Italian buttercream. The fondant took extra effort to apply, as the staff had to invent a “new technique of segmenting the cake and fondant to reduce weight and stress on the fondant.” And, as the Stormtrooper was to be assembled on-site like a mannequin, the staff also created ways to make the cake completely modular.

The presentation of the cake was listed on the convention's schedule asTo Serve Man, er, Stormtrooper,” though for true Twilight Zone effect, the Stormtrooper cake ideally would have inexplicably responded to questions like whether it was too short to be a Stormtrooper. In any case, when it finally was time, the cake was cut and pulled apart, one sliced block at a time like a giant Jenga puzzle. Then it was back to “Aliens in 20th Century Science Fiction Art,” a Buffy the Vampire Slayer sing-along, and everything else in their journey through another dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind – and life-sized cakes.

LA Weekly