



Let’s tackle that list of scary adjectives, one by one.


Italian? Swiss? French? German? Simple? Decorator's? Fondant? Too many names and techniques. How do I choose? Here are the differences. I’ve organized the types in order from most to least likely (for me, anyhow) to make.





Fondant: Fondant mixed with an equal amount of butter.





Still game? Let’s make my favorite frosting: Italian buttercream.

First move? get the butter out of the fridge. It doesn't hurt to do this the day before you make the frosting, depending on the temperature in your house. 65 to 70 degrees is the ideal range. Like Goldilocks, you're looking for a certain texture.

Too hard


Too soft

This butter is so warm it's starting to melt and break. If you added this to warm meringue, you'll have a sad, greasy mess. Emulsions tend to break at extremes of hot and cold, and this one's no different.

Just right.


Next: hunt and gather equipment. This is really a recipe for the stand mixer. You need both hands to do what you need to do, and most hand mixers don't have the horsepower to accomplish this task. My 5-quart Viking has been my champion for more batches of frosting than I can count.



I use the mixer's whisk attachment to moisten the powder (no reason to make another tool dirty), then set up the mixer so it's ready to go. A little pinch of salt here makes a big difference between a frosting that's cloyingly sweet and one that's downright intriguing.



Bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally to dissolve the sugar.

Soon your syrup will be boiling.


Turn the mixer on high. First you'll see the mixture begin to get foamy.



Time to sprinkle in the sugar, with the mixer running. Once it's all in, time to look at our sugar syrup.


Let's see how the meringue is doing.

There we go. At this point I'll stop the mixer and focus on the syrup until it's ready to bring over.

Not yet, but it won't be long now.

This is how the syrup looks at 248°F. Time to pull it off the stove and take it to the mixer. There's no time to lose between these two steps; you have to move quickly (but carefully, please!)

Pour the syrup into the sweet spot between the edge of the bowl and the shoulder of the whisk. You don't want it to get thrown all over the place. The syrup can be pretty thick, and it hardens quickly, which is why I prefer a non-stick pan for this. It slides out of the pan without needing to be scraped.

Once the syrup is in, the whites get pretty warm:


Big and fluffy, and silky smooth. So far, so good. Now we want this to cool down so we don't melt or break the butter when we add it to the bowl. I will often give the process a little help with an ice pack.

A few minutes more... how are we for temperature?

Butter ready?

Yup, standing by.



I did EVERY SINGLE thing I tell you not to do in this blog, and I still couldn't ruin the stuff. Meringue powder, fresh egg whites, butter as hard as a rock, soft butter thrown into 100°F meringue, nothing. It all worked.

I turned into my mother at one point, hearing myself say, "Oh, for crying out loud!" in exactly her voice.

But back to how to get it right if you're new to this stuff.





Gorgeous, eh? Now I'm adding some vanilla. This is the point where you can go crazy in flavor land. In summer I've often taken some of the frosting out for the outside of a cake, then taken the rest and mixed in a couple pints of fresh raspberries and used that frosting for between layers.

You can add citrus zest and 1 to 2 tablespoons of juice. Or some melted, cooled chocolate (no more than 2 ounces, or the frosting can't hold it). Espresso powder? Sure. You might want to dissolve it in a tablespoon of cream first, otherwise your frosting will have freckles. I'm a big fan of coconut milk powder and coconut flavoring. Makes fabulous buttercream that's nice and stable.

Before I finish my tale, let's cover a few more bases.


To use from the freezer, defrost in the refrigerator overnight, then let it come to room temperature before using. I know some people who have successfully thawed buttercream in short, low bursts in the microwave, but I'm not that brave. In any case, if you see any weeping or separation, throw the frosting in the mixer and beat it briefly to bring it back together.

Secrets and confessions: I love the flavor of an all-butter buttercream. But when I'm making a wedding cake that has to sit on a table in the summertime for a few hours, I'll frequently sneak in 1/2 cup of vegetable shortening when adding the butter. The shortening has a higher melting point and will keep things more stable under to0-warm conditions.

Shortening can also "save" a curdled frosting when nothing else seems to be working. Now that most of the trans fats have been removed from vegetable shortenings, I don't feel as guilty about this "insurance policy."

Waiting for the meringue to cool down is a pain. There. I've said it. Other than the ice pack trick, and if I'm feeling particularly defiant, I'll ignore my own advice about butter being too cold and throw half a pound of frozen butter chunks into the warm meringue at first, trusting the heat to melt the butter and the cold to bring down the meringue's temp at the same time. This is, I repeat, a high-risk strategy.







By now, my mixer is getting a little pooped. I've actually had it shut itself off because the motor got too hot while it was going... going... going to cool the meringue. When that happens, I get another icepack.


Hopefully this amount of information can spare you some angst and some time. If you're interested in learning what you can do with this wonderful stuff, click on this link and scroll down to "Cake Decorating with Susan Reid." A .pdf will download to your computer, which you can open, print, and use for reference whenever you need to get your cake bakin' game on.


Print just the recipe.


Susan Reid
The Author

About Susan Reid
