Tanya Kulaga's eight tiny reindeer with the Santa sleigh gingerbread. The 15th Annual Eldridge Hotel Gingerbread House Festival and Auction will benefit the Big Brothers Big Sisters of Douglas County.

In this troubled economy, the housing market is crumbling. No, really — it’s literally crumbling. Because it’s made of cookies. Well, technically gingerbread and graham crackers, but it’s a delicious collapse nonetheless. And when the bubble bursts, it’ll get frosting all over everything. Mmmmm …

No, it’s not the fevered rambling of a hypoglycemic financial analyst, but the 15th annual Eldridge Hotel Gingerbread House Festival. This exhibition of elaborate gingerbread houses at the Eldridge Extended, and its silent auction of these edible architectural wonders, have served as a fundraiser for Big Brothers Big Sisters of Douglas County over the course of a decade and a half. Around 100 entrants submit their confectionery constructions — adults use gingerbread, youngsters use graham crackers — for a shot at Best in Show and the opportunity to raise money for charity.

And unlike the actual housing market, this one actually makes money. The festival can raise anywhere from $25,000 to $45,000 a year.

Close up of Althea Wilson's gingerbread house in the final phase of design.

“This is a huge fundraiser for us,” says Cathy Brashler, development coordinator with Big Brothers Big Sisters of Douglas County. “We have three major fundraisers every year, and this is one of them. It’s absolutely critical at this point. Over half of our sources of funding are from private giving, so the Gingerbread Festival is a very big part of it.”

The chance to contribute to a worthy cause such as the respected mentoring program seems to have created a crop of culinary Frank Lloyd Wrights.

“My daughter brought a flier home from school and it was a fundraiser for Big Brothers Big Sisters, and I thought it would be a good way to contribute and where we could do something fun,” says Tanya Kulaga, who fittingly enough works with houses as a real estate agent. “While she was working on her graham cracker house, I figured I’d make one, too, so we could do something together. No prior experience or artistic training or anything, I just thought it would be fun.”

Greg Thompson assembles his house with with picket fence pieces.

That was four years and a couple of finalist ribbons ago. Now Kulaga, along with husband Greg and daughter Althea, are hooked. “I think we’re locked into it at this point. The expectation is there,” says Kulaga with a laugh. “There’s a bit of commitment at this point. One year, between the three of us, our family raised $6,000 from the sale of our houses. There’s no way out of it without a lot of tremendous guilt.”

Ornate inspiration

So far as commitment it’s hard to compete with Cali Burke, who began participating in the Gingerbread Festival 14 years ago at the tender age of 5. She and younger sisters Ainsley and BryAnn have been building these tasty tenements for most of their lives. “We just have such fun making it together, and it’s a charity we all really believe in. It’s really great for us to see our products make money for someone else,” says Burke, who also fittingly enough works with houses as an architecture student at Kansas University.

She’s using her proximity to campus for a leg up on this year’s festival entry. “We went up to the archives at KU and had them pull out all of the blueprints for Spooner Hall to get all of our measurements so we could build it to scale,” says Burke. “Creativity and materials are key. This year we built the site around Spooner out of some Rice Krispies, but otherwise we’re using traditional materials like gum paste and fondant and royal icing.”

Tanya Kulaga works on the final details of her gingerbread Santa sleigh.

Recreating local landmarks is a hallmark of the Gingerbread Festival. “There was an amazing one of Allen Fieldhouse last year,” marvels Brashler. “It was a cutaway where you could see all the people made out of candy inside. It was huge.”

“We built the Castle Tea Room last year, and that was really cool because it was our first gingerbread,” recalls Burke, who had graduated from graham cracker. “It sold for $1,000. It was really gratifying, especially because I had turned 18 and could finally go to the party.”

Inspiration, though, can be found in places other than our own backyard. “I’m entirely a copycat artist and use instructions,” says Kulaga, who’s eschewing houses for a snackable Santa scene this year. “Greg, however, totally does things from scratch. He did the White House one year, he’s done a 6-foot-tall Empire State Building, and last year he did an exact replica of the Douglas County Courthouse. He got the architectural plans from the county. It was crazy.”

These ornate little masterpieces, as you might guess, take some time. “In the past it’s been a good solid week dedicated to gingerbread making,” says Kulaga. “Greg’s Empire State Building used so much gingerbread it took him a month. He stuffed it full of Rice Krispie treats for structural support. Depending on how intricate you do it, an average house can take anywhere from 20 hours to potentially 60 hours.”

“We probably spend about a week and a half working on it,” estimates Burke. “I hope we get this year’s done on time. We’re all pretty busy this week, but we’ll try.”

Althea Wilson and her step father Greg Thompson work on their structures to meet the entry deadline.

Economic realities

Deadlines are indeed looming. “The thing that kind of stinks about it is the pressure,” says Kulaga. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older, but it definitely seems to be getting harder every year for some reason. My issue is feeling like it’s not good enough. If you do one that’s decent, people expect you to do one that’s at least as good the next year. The fear is letting people down. After they’re all auctioned off, though, it’s just a good feeling to know you helped a good cause. I think more people should do it because it is really fun.”

Big Brothers Big Sisters of Douglas County is also hoping more people get involved. They’re hoping the gingerbread housing market can withstand non-gingerbread economic realities. “We’ve seen the amount of the gifts go down, which has been hard on us,” says Brashler of the fundraising during the recession. “Some of our grant funding has also been cut by 20 percent, which is also hard because our private giving has to make up for it. It’s definitely been a challenge this year. A Christmas miracle would be great.”

Cookie-cutter houses: Festival sells gingerbread buildings for charity

Tanya Kulaga's eight tiny reindeer with the Santa sleigh gingerbread. The 15th Annual Eldridge Hotel Gingerbread House Festival and Auction will benefit the Big Brothers Big Sisters of Douglas County.

In this troubled economy, the housing market is crumbling. No, really — it’s literally crumbling. Because it’s made of cookies. Well, technically gingerbread and graham crackers, but it’s a delicious collapse nonetheless. And when the bubble bursts, it’ll get frosting all over everything. Mmmmm …

No, it’s not the fevered rambling of a hypoglycemic financial analyst, but the 15th annual Eldridge Hotel Gingerbread House Festival. This exhibition of elaborate gingerbread houses at the Eldridge Extended, and its silent auction of these edible architectural wonders, have served as a fundraiser for Big Brothers Big Sisters of Douglas County over the course of a decade and a half. Around 100 entrants submit their confectionery constructions — adults use gingerbread, youngsters use graham crackers — for a shot at Best in Show and the opportunity to raise money for charity.

And unlike the actual housing market, this one actually makes money. The festival can raise anywhere from $25,000 to $45,000 a year.

Close up of Althea Wilson's gingerbread house in the final phase of design.

“This is a huge fundraiser for us,” says Cathy Brashler, development coordinator with Big Brothers Big Sisters of Douglas County. “We have three major fundraisers every year, and this is one of them. It’s absolutely critical at this point. Over half of our sources of funding are from private giving, so the Gingerbread Festival is a very big part of it.”

The chance to contribute to a worthy cause such as the respected mentoring program seems to have created a crop of culinary Frank Lloyd Wrights.

“My daughter brought a flier home from school and it was a fundraiser for Big Brothers Big Sisters, and I thought it would be a good way to contribute and where we could do something fun,” says Tanya Kulaga, who fittingly enough works with houses as a real estate agent. “While she was working on her graham cracker house, I figured I’d make one, too, so we could do something together. No prior experience or artistic training or anything, I just thought it would be fun.”

Greg Thompson assembles his house with with picket fence pieces.

That was four years and a couple of finalist ribbons ago. Now Kulaga, along with husband Greg and daughter Althea, are hooked. “I think we’re locked into it at this point. The expectation is there,” says Kulaga with a laugh. “There’s a bit of commitment at this point. One year, between the three of us, our family raised $6,000 from the sale of our houses. There’s no way out of it without a lot of tremendous guilt.”

Ornate inspiration

So far as commitment it’s hard to compete with Cali Burke, who began participating in the Gingerbread Festival 14 years ago at the tender age of 5. She and younger sisters Ainsley and BryAnn have been building these tasty tenements for most of their lives. “We just have such fun making it together, and it’s a charity we all really believe in. It’s really great for us to see our products make money for someone else,” says Burke, who also fittingly enough works with houses as an architecture student at Kansas University.

She’s using her proximity to campus for a leg up on this year’s festival entry. “We went up to the archives at KU and had them pull out all of the blueprints for Spooner Hall to get all of our measurements so we could build it to scale,” says Burke. “Creativity and materials are key. This year we built the site around Spooner out of some Rice Krispies, but otherwise we’re using traditional materials like gum paste and fondant and royal icing.”

Tanya Kulaga works on the final details of her gingerbread Santa sleigh.

Recreating local landmarks is a hallmark of the Gingerbread Festival. “There was an amazing one of Allen Fieldhouse last year,” marvels Brashler. “It was a cutaway where you could see all the people made out of candy inside. It was huge.”

“We built the Castle Tea Room last year, and that was really cool because it was our first gingerbread,” recalls Burke, who had graduated from graham cracker. “It sold for $1,000. It was really gratifying, especially because I had turned 18 and could finally go to the party.”

Inspiration, though, can be found in places other than our own backyard. “I’m entirely a copycat artist and use instructions,” says Kulaga, who’s eschewing houses for a snackable Santa scene this year. “Greg, however, totally does things from scratch. He did the White House one year, he’s done a 6-foot-tall Empire State Building, and last year he did an exact replica of the Douglas County Courthouse. He got the architectural plans from the county. It was crazy.”

These ornate little masterpieces, as you might guess, take some time. “In the past it’s been a good solid week dedicated to gingerbread making,” says Kulaga. “Greg’s Empire State Building used so much gingerbread it took him a month. He stuffed it full of Rice Krispie treats for structural support. Depending on how intricate you do it, an average house can take anywhere from 20 hours to potentially 60 hours.”

“We probably spend about a week and a half working on it,” estimates Burke. “I hope we get this year’s done on time. We’re all pretty busy this week, but we’ll try.”

Althea Wilson and her step father Greg Thompson work on their structures to meet the entry deadline.

Economic realities

Deadlines are indeed looming. “The thing that kind of stinks about it is the pressure,” says Kulaga. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m getting older, but it definitely seems to be getting harder every year for some reason. My issue is feeling like it’s not good enough. If you do one that’s decent, people expect you to do one that’s at least as good the next year. The fear is letting people down. After they’re all auctioned off, though, it’s just a good feeling to know you helped a good cause. I think more people should do it because it is really fun.”

Big Brothers Big Sisters of Douglas County is also hoping more people get involved. They’re hoping the gingerbread housing market can withstand non-gingerbread economic realities. “We’ve seen the amount of the gifts go down, which has been hard on us,” says Brashler of the fundraising during the recession. “Some of our grant funding has also been cut by 20 percent, which is also hard because our private giving has to make up for it. It’s definitely been a challenge this year. A Christmas miracle would be great.”

Food