Birthday cakes were pretty important to me growing up. My mom, an amazing artist, used to make the most beautiful and original cakes using icing pointilism—perfect dots of many different colored icings which formed a detailed picture of that year's favorite character. They were colorful, elaborate, heavy on the icing and stunning. When Nate turned one, I thought: I'll carry on the tradition. 10 hours later I was covered in food dye, vowing never again. The cake (a big number 1) was not attractive and Nate fell asleep before we even lit the candle. As my mother-in-law whispered during Saturday's party, cakes have a very important meaning in my life. (ie I am somehow always trying to live up to my mother's grand talents, and of course failing miserably.) This year, I had a revelation while in Exodus in Easton... an old school cake, with a photo top! How far from tasteful could I get? Carvel in Bay Ridge made my dreams come true!