In 1789, Marie Antoinette allegedly believed that cake held the answer to her ever-growing political problems. Parisians – soon to be revolting – were starving. On a hot July’s day when they stormed the Bastille’s medieval fortress, they sought not only arsenal to arm their resistance, but grains to make bread too.
When courtiers informed Marie Antoinette of her people’s hunger, she is said to have disregarded their struggle proclaiming: “Let them eat cake!”. In revolutionary France, baked goods were a luxury, priced far above bread. Hence, the throwaway comment became memorialised as a symbol of her frivolous disregard for her people’s livelihoods.
As with all good stories, the authenticity of the quote is apocryphal. The French “qu’ils mangent de la brioche” directly translates to “let them eat brioche”, which doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. Historians have even questioned if the infamous remark was planned propaganda to give the anti-monarchist movement ammunition, but this theory has since been debunked.
In fact, the remark can be traced back earlier to 16th century Germany. Germanic folklore recalls a clueless noblewoman pondering why hungry peasants didn’t simply gobble on some ‘kroesen’, a sweet and luxurious pastry with bread-like texture. The expensive combination of eggs, sugar and flour marked a gap of exclusiveness between those who have and those who have not. Marie Antoinette’s quip may have only been a rumour, but it has survived the test of time as it rings true to the aristocratic attitude.
On the other hand, in Revolutionary America at the time of the Thirteen Colonies, muster cake was part of a staple diet. Naturally leavened, as baking powder was in short supply, it was a boozy fruit and spice cake that offered sustenance with a slice of Dutch courage to farmers who were recruited by British troops. Travelling for days on their military training, they would descend upon the nearest town now and then to “muster” (prepare for battle). The aptly named cake would be awaiting their arrival to line their stomachs. Each was freshly baked, of course, by the women of the colonial residence.
In 1776, when the yolk of British colonial rule was overthrown, muster cake was christened a new name: election cake. In the 19th century, women would bake copious amounts of this traditionally 12-pound cake and take them to town halls to encourage men to place their ballots. In 1830, male voters of New England were given a special slice of Hartford election cake if they promised to vote a straight party ticket. Waiting in the wings and lacking the right to vote themselves, their wives made sure their husbands participated in this newly gained democratic process – even if that meant coaxing them with fruitcake. Women were partaking in the civic process the only way they could then, by baking. It was beginnings of the early suffragette movement out in full force.
Over the years, this tradition slowly flickered out. In 2016, OWL Bakery in Asheville, North Carolina decided they wanted to “Make America cake gain”. Co-founders Maia Surdam and Susannah Gebhart decided to revive the old tradition, creating a fruit cake recipe using a sourdough starter. The celebratory baked goods weren’t about acknowledging a particular candidate or party, but about the journey to franchise. The bakery made several cakes selling them at a tailgate market to raise money for the League of Women Voters.
North London’s Luminary Bakery is founded on a similar mission – helping the Capital’s most disadvantaged women. In order to break the cycles of poverty, violence and disadvantage, the bakery offers courses, work experience and employment. But, in becoming a hub of empowered women, the Luminary Bakery is more than this. It’s a safe haven where women can invest in their future, one batch at a time.
From women’s rights to LGBT rights, the saga hasn’t always been a smooth bake. In 2018, the US Supreme Court sided with Colorado baker Jack Phillips, who had refused to bake David Mullins and Charlie Craig’s wedding cake, with a 7-2 ruling that reversed the 2012 decision by the Colorado state court.
Closer to home, the UK Supreme Court sided with a Belfast bakery run by evangelical Christians. The court ruled that they were not obliged to bake a cake for Gareth Lee decorated with Sesame Street’s Bert and Ernie and text stating to “support gay marriage”. Viewed as a victory for free speech and a defeat for the LGBT community, bakers were now engulfed in the civil rights discourse.
In Egypt, the political patisserie is a dangerous game. Last month, at a birthday party in Cairo, a group of women filled their stomachs with cupcakes iced with genitalia styled fondant at a birthday celebration. Photos of the women interacting with these graphic party favours went viral. The baker was arrested under the official charge of public indecency and now faces a two-year jail sentence. The Sisi government may be more liberal than its predecessors, with a parliamentary quota for women politicians, but Islamic beliefs still rule in the streets. Defending and oppressing women simultaneously, the state wants to have its cake and eat it too.
From Belfast to Cairo, cupcakes to sponges, the relationship between politics and patisserie is often overlooked. But in the kitchen cupboard, between the sugar and the flour, lies all the ingredients necessary for change. Revolution has never tasted so sweet.