Since as long as I can remember, my Mother has been affectionately dubbed the "Queen of Fling". Set her loose in the kitchen and in no time flat, she'll produce a gourmet meal of which you've never seen the like. While I enjoy cooking, I always thought this elusive "fling gene" was a recessed one or perhaps it, in my case, had skipped a generation. It was not until last year that I discovered that I did possess in my power the ability to fling. I just hadn't found my flinging niche in this world until I discovered the wonderful world of fondant.
I used to be a pre-k teacher and had (and still have for that matter) an unusual love of play dough. Free time would come along and the kids would run for the toys. I, on the other hand, would run towards the shelf that held my beloved play dough and tools. Give me 30 seconds and I could whip up a polka dotted alligator, or a martian driving a sportscar. I loved the childlike world that I could fall into while molding this medium. Unfortunately, an adult who plays with play dough generally isn't praised for their abilities no matter how fantastic an alligator they can sculpt.
I remember first seeing fondant work on the various cake decorating television shows and thinking "I can do that!" I bought a pack of fondant from the local Walmart and dove into the world of sugar shaping with the creation of my son's 2nd birthday cake. I haven't looked back since and fondant flinging has become my wonderful obsession.
