You dusted four dozen cookies for a paid order. They looked right when you boxed them. The next morning the color had crept out at the edge of the icing, like a bruise. Same jar as last month. Same icing...

Friday night. A unicorn cake, an hour before bedtime. Every swirl is piped and every swirl is perfect. You dust the whole thing gold while the buttercream is fresh, step back, and it looks like you never touched it. The...