Edible Architect: Foundations

Welcome to Edible Architect! I'm Patrick McConville, Founder & Chief Building Officer, and I wanted to share a brief introduction.

For as long as I can remember, I have been a diehard Martha Stewart fanatic. At age 10 or 11, I didn't have many friends and school was very lonely. I used to walk myself home to have lunch alone in front of the television. After making a sandwich, I'd switch on The Price is Right on CBS and wait patiently as it came to an end, and the highlight of my day began: Martha Stewart Living. I watched with wonder as she carved lanterns out of gourds she'd grown in her Turkey Hill garden, instructed on the proper way to force hyacinth bulbs for winter flowers, and built a massive gingerbread mansion complete with a copper-leaf mansard roof! During the gingerbread house episode, Martha described herself as a "frustrated architect" because she so enjoys building and decorating edible houses. The minute I heard those words, I felt seen for the first time.

My early experiences with gingerbread houses were not great. Like most Americans, my family would grab a pre-baked, all-in-one kit at Costco or the grocery store, and we would assemble it using the pre-made "royal icing" and generic candy decorations. It was fun to decorate the structure with candy, but hollow. Everyone's gingerbread houses looked relatively the same, and they tasted terrible. I often wondered why they didn't offer multiple designs, different decorating kits, or other ways to enhance the experience. And eventually, I stopped making them.

Throughout my life, baking has been a form of therapy - especially cookies. When life and times are particularly stressful, I find solace in my kitchen, carefully measuring my ingredients and closely following my recipes. The joy of sharing my baked creations with others gives me a sense of community, and of pride, and I am always looking for ways to level-up the experience.

At the start of the global COVID-19 pandemic of 2020, I was living in Los Angeles and working as a software sales executive. I'd been working fully-remotely in California for 4 or 5 years, and had plans to open our company's first West Coast office within months. I awaited the office opening with great anticipation, as the loneliness of remote home work had taken a toll on my psyche. But the world ended. Or so it seemed at the time. And I was trapped, alone on the West Coast with my French Bulldog Dauphine, to ride out the health crisis in solitude. To make matters worse, local protests and riots moved city officials to impose a 4PM curfew. I didn't think I would survive.

While confined to my apartment for months on end, I did the usual things: download TikTok, scroll for days, and watch everything available on every streaming service available. It was during my stream-binging that I stumbled upon The Curious Creations of Christine McConnell on Netflix. In her series, Christine bakes and decorates a wide variety of spooky Halloween treats, providing full instructions along the way. During one episode, she created a gorgeous, massive, haunted Victorian gingerbread mansion. I couldn't believe my eyes. From the elaborate gingerbread pieces to the isomalt candy glass windows, it was the most beautiful baked structure I'd ever seen. And she'd made it for Halloween - not Christmas! It opened my imagination to the possibility that there could be a place for cookie houses all year long. Right as this was happening, the corporation I worked for announced the first of several remote competitions, where participants could win worthwhile prizes. I scanned the details regarding the first competition: "Wow your colleagues with your spookiest craft or treat". I knew immediately that I'd make my own haunted gingerbread mansion.

To begin my first custom gingerbread house, I grabbed an old set of generic gingerbread house cookie cutters. Looking at the pieces, I hated how they produced the same generic cookies as the pre-baked kits of my childhood. I certainly wasn't going to win any competitions with such a lackluster design. So I took cues from Martha and Christine, and set to work creating my own templates using oaktag. Before I knew it, I had a full set of templates and was ready to start baking. I carefully baked each piece using a construction gingerbread recipe, filled the windows with candy glass, and assembled my structure. I cut out interesting trim pieces, repurposed window and door cutouts as shields or balconies, and made gargoyles using royal icing. Then, the best part: airbrush food coloring. I'd learned this technique watching Christine, and an airbrush food coloring set was just an Amazon order away, so I went for it. The results amazed me. I was able to shade various parts of the house and give it a creepy feel. As a final step, I added a battery-operated tealight candle, and lit the house from within. I won first place.

My first custom gingerbread house, a first prize winner!

I was hooked. As days passed and the 2020 election grew nearer, my anxiety grew more intolerable. I thought back to how much I'd enjoyed making my haunted mansion - how long it had taken to design, to cut, to bake, to decorate, to perfect, to admire - and decided to try a gingerbread White House. I poured all of my emotions into a roughly 12" cubed structure resembling a very simplified presidential residence, and added candy glass fountains. Again, I was amazed at how much joy and peace this edible miniature had brought me - when I needed it most.

Edible White House (front lawn/back lawn)

In March 2021, I decided I needed to move back home to New York to be closer to friends and family. I packed up my airbrush food coloring machine and headed northeast. Before long, I had a new job, new stressors, and a reinforced need for baking therapy. I started making custom gingerbread houses for family and friends, including the 1960s Sugar Maple Split I grew up in (see below) and my brother & brother-in-law's house, a 1920s Dutch Colonial (also below). It was so much fun to see the looks on people's faces as they took in the edible features of their miniature homes. And people began to tell me I should do this for a living! I laughed.

My childhood home in Dumont, NJ

My brother's house in Nutley, NJ

Over the years, gingerbread house-making had become a respite. When the world became too overwhelming, I baked a mini one to live in. I was a thriving, top-of-the-world business development executive for a fast-growing startup by day, and a calm, satisfied baker by night. Then I got fired.

Losing your job as the market for tech talent tanks is less than ideal, especially when you're a year shy of 40. I confidently fielded interviews through recruiters, certain that my next opportunity was imminent, would be lucrative, and would take me to the next level. Months passed, then nearly a year, and I was no closer to employment. My sense of value evaporated, I felt more afraid of the future than ever, and the world and my anxieties seemed more than I could take. So I baked. And I built. And I experimented. And one day, I decided to start a company. I would create a company that made it easy for anyone, regardless of skill level, to bake and build delicious and beautiful edible buildings. But how? I figured the best way would be to learn CAD software, buy 3D printers, and print my own cookie cutter creations. I'd then publish how-to videos to accompany each cookie cutter set, and build a community dedicated to cookie-based building. Thus, Edible Architect was born.

I began with 3 basic designs- our Launch Edition - a classic New England cottage, a modern contemporary cottage, and a village church. By design, these were versatile, universal, and could be decorated to suit any occasion or holiday. From there, I launched a "Building-of-the-Month" club, with new designs and an original recipe each month. And I'll spin up new buildings and accessories whenever I'm inspired. You can find them all on EdibleArchitect.com.

If you find yourself here because you love cookies, love cookie houses, love baking, or just love to watch, WELCOME! I'm so excited for 2025, and I can't wait to see what we build.

Patrick