Gory Monster Cakes Are All the Rage This Halloween

Is cake the artistic medium of our generation? Let’s fucking hope it is, because you can’t really eat a painted canvas unless you have strong stomach and a preternatural case of pica. Anyway, art should be consumed so it forces new art to constantly be created, foiling our sentimental weakness for the old, the curated, the familiar, which is all just an elaborate way to introduce us to the grotesque deliciousness on display at Feed the Beast cake shop.

Feed the Beast is exactly what its name and the top image on this article imply — a horror cake-making enterprise that crafts intricate and gory cakes like this moth-eaten pony. Or suture and eyeball cupcakes. These are the sort of baked goods you get if you’re a really wealthy and eccentric celebrity intent on throwing a Halloween party that (TWIST) turns into a massacre at the hooves and claws of magically-animated cake monsters. Ideally, someone like Topher Grace would play himself as the celebrity host. Cameos would abound. A keg delivering Bruce Campbell would be the hero of this picture.

More on the Feed the Beast creations from Evil Cakehead:

So Feed The Beast 2013 is open and there are so many amazing cakes it would be impossible to fit them into just one post. Thought it would be a good place to start with the showstopper cake by The Tattooed Bakers (see bottom image) – a Devil Horse cake dripping in rum, literally. The beast had Kraken Rum pouring from it’s nose into a font which was surrounded by skulls. It was cut open by the mighty Kraken Hunter and guests at the opening party were invited to help themselves to its red velvet cake insides, and those who wanted a top up could simply place their glass under the stream for supply of The Kraken Rum. It took Eddie & Rich over 200 hours to complete, shown in the stunning attention to detail.

Somebody should really get moving on a meta-cake version of Goya’s “Saturn Devouring His Son” before we reach cultural saturation with red velvet cake. Time is running out, cake artisans — there’s only so much red velvet a person can eat before it loses its appeal.