Hi there, and welcome to my kitchen! I'm Emilia Malwar, a 42-year-old cake whisperer in Asheville, North Carolina. My roots are Southern, but my whisk has traveled through every corner of America’s cake traditions—from the rich, nutty layers of Kentucky bourbon cake to the sky-high coconut layer cakes of the Gulf Coast. If it's sweet, celebratory, and best served with a smile, it’s probably come out of my oven at some point.
My love affair with baking began one rainy Saturday when I was seven. My grandmother, Mabel, pulled out her weathered recipe card box, its corners smudged with decades of flour and butter. We made a hummingbird cake that day, and I can still remember the scent—ripe banana, warm cinnamon, and the sweet tang of crushed pineapple. That was the first time I felt magic happen in a bowl.
Mabel was my guiding light. She believed a cake could heal a broken heart or seal a friendship. She taught me that even a simple pound cake, if made with love and real butter, could speak louder than words. I still use her handwritten recipe for red velvet cake, right down to the dramatic splash of vinegar at the end.
Of course, not every cake journey has been flawless. I once tried to create a seven-tier rainbow cake for a friend’s wedding without testing the structure first. The layers slid into a kaleidoscopic landslide an hour before the ceremony. We salvaged it into parfaits and laughed until we cried. That mess taught me humility, and the power of a good backup plan (and extra whipped cream).
For me, baking is about joy, connection, and that deep, satisfying inhale when a cake comes out just right. My philosophy is simple: if you bake with your heart, the rest will follow. I welcome everyone into this space—whether you're learning to crack your first egg or you’re the designated birthday cake maker in your family.
I have a habit of singing 90s ballads while I whisk (sorry, not sorry) and I firmly believe sprinkles should be a food group. When I’m not elbow-deep in buttercream or coaxing shy bakers out of their shells in local workshops, I’m right here—flour on my shirt, coffee nearby, sharing cakes that come with stories, carry a little heartache or humor, and sweeten the everyday.
Come on in, roll up your sleeves, mixing bowl, and let’s make something wonderful together. Whether it’s a chocolate classic that never fails or a quirky cola cake that sparks conversation, there’s always room at my table for one more.