It celebrated the wobbly, the burnt edge, the broken piece of honeycomb. It told perfectionists: Your cake doesn’t have to be pretty to be powerful.

It is the cake that whispers: You are allowed to be rough around the edges. Now pass the hammer.

Just remember: The bakery police aren't coming. And if they do? Tell them the Rebel sent you.

Tired of constructing delicate entremets for customers who cared more about Instagram grids than taste, Ryder had a meltdown during a power outage. With no light to measure precision, they threw a still-warm, slightly-burnt chocolate stout cake onto a butcher block, smeared it with miso-caramel using a putty knife, and shattered a set of honeycomb candy pieces over the top with a hammer.