When I served churches along the Gulf Coast, without fail, on the first Sunday closest to Twelfth Night, it appeared at coffee hour. And it stayed, each week its own version of The Great Mardi Gras Bake Off between various bakers of the church, until The Last Sunday after the Epiphany.  Then it was buried with the Alleluias: the sweet, sugary, sticky, filled with crème and jellies, and oh my goodness, WHAT is this amazing stuff of King Cake?

King Cake, known by as many names as the Last Sunday after Pentecost, likely originated as a way to use up the remaining flour, butter, and special ingredients of the feasts of the Christmas season. It was traditionally eaten on Twelfth Night, but as the celebration of Epiphany expanded with the popularity of Mardi Gras, the King Cake found a new role. The earliest King Cakes were likely most similar to modern day panatones. Now, they range from exquisite French gateaux to ovals of filled sponge slathered with crème icing and covered with purple, green, and gold sugar.

What does seem to be consistent is the practice of placing a bean or, in modern versions, a ceramic baby Jesus in part of the cake. The person whose slice contains the bean/baby Jesus is: crowned the Lord (or King or Queen) of Misrule, or must take it to the nearest church on Candlemas Day to be presented, or will have good luck the rest of the year, or must bring the King Cake to the next party. 

My great aunt made King Cake from scratch, like gather the eggs from outside, grate the butter into the flour, knead the dough by hand, let it rise, punch it down, knead it again, let it rise again, then intricately braid it into a perfect oval by hand. She also had an assortment of various fillings that ranged from rich vanilla cremes to my favorite: raspberry and crème blend. 

She taught me to make the sugar topping, holy sugar, she called it. Place the sugar in three mason jars, add the food coloring to each jar (always the colors of Mardi Gras – purple, green, and gold), and shake. The purple, she said, was to remind us the Baby Jesus was the King of Kings. The green meant he was Lord of all Creation.  The gold represented the wealth of love he brought us. I have never found any of these particular meanings verified, but I’m staying with them. Shake the mixture for as long as it takes to say the Lord’s Prayer, then sprinkle liberally on the cake. Don’t be chintzy – Jesus’s love is lavish. 

I still love to bake, but in the aftermath of Advent and Christmas and the preparations for Lent, gathering eggs or hand kneading dough until just-so is not a spiritual exercise in which I want to partake. 

But I still love King Cake. 

A quick internet search will lead you to any number of amazing King Cake recipes if you want to make them from the most basic ingredients. But if that seems to be a bit more work than time allows, I share my version that’s slightly less involved, but still lets you to shake the sugar as you pray the Lord’s Prayer.