Captivating Cakes

Nigerian-born Peggy Kovensky creates edible flowers so authentic looking, they fool humans and honeybees alike.

By NANCY HEISER

Photography by RICHARD G. SANDIFER

Originally published in Port City Life
January/February 2007

Her great aunt named her Onaiwu, or "the woman who will not die." It was a poignant response to the two baby siblings who died before her. But by the time she got to college in her native Nigeria, she was Margaret or "Peggy for short.

O. Peggy Kovensky now lives in South Portland, and while no human is immortal; of course, her captivating wedding cakes are bound to be remembered for years to come.

Kovensky is the designer, baker, and founder of New England Couture Cakes, a one-woman business, and her finesse with fondant has been turning heads since she arrived in Maine in the summer of 2005. Stunning floral designs made of meticulously shaped gum paste (sugar dough) adorn her gorgeous one-of-a-kind creations. The flowers look so real that it's not uncommon for people to bend near to sniff them. Once, a bee came along and tried to pollinate one of her edible Gerber daisies.

The soft-spoken Kovensky, 27, has long black hair and a kind face with large eyes; she is as elegant and silky as the exquisite faux calla lilies, sweet peas, and satiny bows she turns out like magic. She speaks modestly about her creations, but there is an inkling of pride in what she has accomplished, and justifiably so.

In 1998 Kovensky entered college in her native Nigeria, but due to faculty strikes it took six years instead of four to earn her B.S. degree in public administration. "I couldn't afford to sit at home doing nothing," she explains. So in 2000 she simultaneously enrolled in the Institute of Catering and Hotel Management in her home country, where she learned the basics of cooking and baking. Inspired by the 1994 Wilton Yearbook of Cake Decorating, which she spied at her elder sister's house, Kovensky took an entire month's allowance, purchased books on cake decoration, and began to study and practice.

By her third year in college, she was returning home every weekend to make and deliver wedding cakes. Rather than carry her creations on a bus, where it was hot and crowded, she'd hail a motorbike taxi and zip the cake to its destination. "Even before I graduated, I knew I wouldn't sit in an office doing public administration work. I knew this was what I wanted to do," she says.

Kovensky now works out of a tidy ranch-style home in South Portland. An oversized granite island and two stainless steel tables take up the kitchen and dining ell. Besides the air cushion she sits on as she works, she uses a small array of precision tools befitting a surgeon - scalpels, shape cutters, needle nose pliers, several pairs of gloves - even an electric pasta machine, which she uses to create uniformly thin layers of gum paste.

But it's not enough to have the right tools or know how to use them; Kovensky brings a perfectionist's eye and an artistic flair to the job. To paint a sugar dough eucalyptus leaf, for instance, she uses four or five different shades of green. For ivy leaves, apples, or satin ribbons, she dilutes confectioner's glaze just enough to add an authentic sheen. She uses pliers to curl a flower, a ball tool to create delicates ruffles on the edge of a lily or tulip, a razor blade to etch realistic veins on the ivy. Once, a bride from Los Angeles asked for seashells to adorn a cake. Kovensky ordered candy molds, but none were up to her standards, so she created her own out of food grade silicone.

Every night she is on the Internet studying cake designs and seeing what is new. "You don't want to be stuck in the past," she says. She finds that most of the wedding cake providers in Maine remain traditionalists and work with customary butter cream frosting as opposed to rolled gum paste and fondant. Many of her customers are from big cities or other states who come to Maine for destination weddings and are accustomed to designer cakes that cost in the low four figures, as some of hers do; a minimum order is $350. (Kovensky notes that some big name cake makers in urban areas charge as much as $60 per serving.)

She has prepared cakes for clients from Miami, Washington state, Nebraska, Wisconsin, California, and New York, as well as Maine. Customers often find her on the Internet. Once contacted, she sets up a consultation and offers to create a sketch if the request is for an original design. Occasionally, she sends actual cake tasting samples by Federal Express to a faraway customer. As with most wedding bakers, several flavors of cake and filling are available.

A Nigerian wedding throne designed by Peggy Kovensky

Husband Stan Kovensky, chief cheerleader and support system, helps with supplies, advertising, wedding shows, and web content. He mentions a show they recently attended at the Nonamtum Resort in Kennebunkport. "One woman got this close to her flowers, trying to smell them," he says, measuring an inch of air with his fingers. "Even the florists say they are as close as you can get to real. The only thing [Peggy] can't produce is the smell of a real flower."

Stan and Peggy met on a train platform in London. Traveling to the U.K. for the first time, he was literally on the wrong side of the tracks, and although she was also a newcomer to the city, she was able to give him directions. Stan eventually returned home, and the two exchanged emails and phone calls. In May of 2005 he revisited London, where Peggy lived with her aunt and uncle.

To her aunt's chagrin, Peggy made traditional Nigerian pepper soup for him, a dish so spicy it's off the meter. "I don't want a dead ebo (white man) at my dining room table," the aunt said. Ah, but she underestimated this suitor, who had been practicing on spicy dishes back in the States. "He didn't even break a sweat," recalls Peggy with a smile. The two were married in a simple ceremony in July of 2005 in Maine. The day Peggy left for the U.S., her father "cried like a baby."

A Nigerian wedding, explains Kovensky, is "like a carnival. It's so flamboyant and very colorful." It usually lasts two days or more, and some weddings involve 2000 people. "They close off the streets." In her country, just before the cutting of the cake, the baker is expected to explain to the hundreds of guests how she made the cake and what the colors represent, a job the reticent Kovensky didn't always relish.

Yet she rises to any challenge, and these days that can mean creating as close to a perfect replication as possible of just about anything, whether the request is for flowers, apples, autumn leaves, or something else entirely.

Once, a groom requested a cake made to look like a meal on a tray from In-N-Out Burger, a fast food chain in California. Despite the odd request, Kovensky worked from photographs and delivered a "meal" fit for a king: a hamburger made out of thinly sliced brownie, a bun made out of fondant, and French fries that were air brushed to a golden brown and placed in a sugar shaped tray that she painted by hand with the red trademark design of the company. (Hold the gum paste onions, said the groom, and she did.) A photograph of her finished design looks as if the platter came straight from the drive-through window.

This happy meal was delivered to a reception at Saddleback ski resort, accompanied by another of Kovensky's designs - a bride's cake bedecked with sugar dough autumn leaves and acorns.

Kovensky's copyrighted "suitcase cake" will be featured in a national bridal magazine.

As one might imagine, Kovensky receives emails and letters from many delighted customers. Her Nebraska bride was so enamored of her cake, she called it the prettiest thing she'd ever seen, and the Lucerne Inn in Dedham, Maine, where her wedding took place, said they'd never encountered anything like it before.

Although the cake portion of Kovensky's designs will spoil if not consumed or frozen, the gum paste adornments last indefinitely. But the dilemma remains: whether to eat or preserve them.

Too bad you can't have your cake and eat it, too.