America's Birthday Cake: From the Kitchen to the History Books

What's a birthday without a cake, right? That's what Grace Pak, the cake artist behind "Duchess of Cameron" and a star of Netflix's Is it Cake? thought about America's 250th birthday celebration. She pitched America250 on a car-sized cake showcasing America's past, present, and future. Then she met with members of Congress representing all 56 states and territories, so that they could each contribute a symbol to represent their constituents. That was when I joined the cake team—if you haven't yet seen my photos of those meetings, you can check them out here!

So, then it was time to assemble this gigantic, collaborative work of edible art. Grace had worked with a team of Marine chefs to create the Marine Corps' 250th birthday cake the year before, and they volunteered again on this one.

The cake was constructed inside a walk-in cooler in a culinary incubator kitchen in Brookland, NE DC. I visited on July 2nd, two days before the cake was set to be revealed at the Library of Congress on Independence Day.

Grace's husband Dave models as Lady Liberty while Grace builds her hand out of Rice Krispie treats.

A cake team member making doves out of modeling chocolate and gum paste.

A cake team member makes a statuette out of modeling chocolate to represent America's youth.

If you’re an East Coaster, you know that the lead-up to July 4 was a record heat wave. Unfortunately, the walk-in cooler could not keep up with the rising temps. Here you can see Grace and Dave’s concern as the Rice Krispies start to get squishy. Grace hit them with some freeze spray, but more drastic measures were required. The next day, Grace kicked everyone out of the kitchen to limit body heat. I wish I could have gotten more photos!

I returned to the kitchen early the morning of July 4th to see the team load the cake into a van for its trip to the Library of Congress Madison Building.

Unfortunately, the freight elevator at the Madison Building was out of service. This meant moving the cake in the front door—and over these iron bollards. The kids there belong to Justin, the head of the team of Marines.

The team was stressed about the weight of the cake and how unwieldy it was. I was afraid I'd have to jump in and help, but I wanted to take pictures! So I recruited a guy I spotted running near the Capitol. Thanks, Scott! The team assembled the cake in front of James Madison's statue.

Here are some of the symbols the members of Congress worked on.

Sketches of American history

The "future" part of the cake was inspired by art submitted by children all over the country to the America250 art contest, in response to the prompt “What does America mean to you?” Grace told me that many of the submissions featured Lady Liberty as a motif. One of them showed many hands helping her hold up the torch, as the cake team depicted here. Other bits of children's art were replicated as well.

The room was packed by the time the unveiling ceremony began. Tom Jensen of America250 spoke, along with a Representative from each party.

The cake was hidden behind a barrier. When Grace took the podium, she said endearingly, "I'm too short to talk to you over this wall!"—and a hundred phones came out as the cake appeared.

The actual cake cutting ceremony was inspired by a Marine tradition in which the cake is served by the oldest Marine present to the youngest. This boy scout was one of the first to be served.

Most of the cake was technically edible, but not intended to be eaten. Grace's team baked a small section of it according to the recipe she developed with the Smithsonian, and that was served during the ceremony. The attendees got slices from sheet cakes made with that same recipe—one that included flour from George Washington's grist mill!

America250 had arranged for the cake to be displayed for a month at the White House Visitor's Center, host to a whole exhibit about our 250th anniversary. (The WHVC is run by the Park Service and the White House Historical Society, and is independent of the presidency.) She purchased a preservative spray to protect it during that time. I lobbied for systematic documentation of the cake itself while it was installed there. I thought that the Smithsonian should hire someone to do a 3D scan of the whole cake, so that it could be seen by every American in detail online, along with the details of all the items it features. On July 5th, the day before the installation, Grace texted me that the cake had suffered during the heat. I called her. "Do you have close up photos of the state symbols?" she asked. "Umm, I don't think I have any that don't feature hands or faces," I said. "And I certainly don't have photos of all of them." Then Grace said "Ok, can you send me a photo of the whole cake? We're going to display it at the Visitor's Center." It took me a minute to understand what Grace was saying. The photo was going to be displayed instead of the cake. In the process of moving it twice across the city in 100+ degree temps, it had gotten much too warm. And the cooler, struggling in the heat, was nowhere near cold enough to bring the cake's temperature back down. Grace was unflappable, focused only on what needed to happen next, and remarkably unshaken by what seemed to me a catastrophe. Reflecting on this, I thought about the interview Dan Pashman of the Sporkful podcast did with her. She told him about the performance art pieces she did for her BFA. "I had something called Snowball in Summer, and it was a performance where I just sat on the floor, made sand castles, but out of ice cream, and it was throughout a few hours where my hands were freezing and it would just melt." Impermanence is one of the themes that has run through her work from the beginning. Grace said she likes "the fact that something can't live forever. I feel like people pay attention to it more and really appreciate the time that they have with this object right now." This is an essential mentality for a cake artist, I suppose. And birthday cakes are generally designed to disappear at the birthday celebration. I thought we'd have a little more time with this one, though! I went to the White House Visitor's Center last week. When I walked in, I was shocked to see the torch standing tall on the display table, although some of Lady Liberty's fingers were partially dismembered. Some of the other decorations were there as well, along with my photo. I got a lump in my throat.

I'm an over-sharer in the best of times, and I was pretty keyed up at this moment. "This is what's left of America's birthday cake!" I said to more than one family, who looked at me like I might be crazy. "I've been following this story for a month. I can answer any questions you have!" In retrospect, it's cringe-worthy. But some people were really interested. And one dad said, "No way, really? My daughter is one of the artists!"

With lucky timing, Zarah Valentina Gomez was there with her painting Footprints of Freedom. Those words appear in her handwriting on the white banner around the torch. Zarah and her family came from New York to see the cake. By now, she must be in Montana on the trip she won via the "America's Field Trip" contest.

Someday, the audacious, quirky story of America's 250th birthday cake will be a heartwarming footnote in American history. These photos will tell part of the story. If you have a story that should be remembered, drop me a line!