cake

On our way to my parents for Christmas we stopped off in London for the night at John's parents. Soon after our arrival, I had a fresh stack of books for my holiday reading, courtesy of John's Mum. One of the books was entitled at Eat Cake. Well, it couldn't have been much more inviting if it tried. A few pages in, I read this excerpt & I was hooked.


People equate virtue with turning down dessert. There is always one person at the table who holds up her hand when I serve the cake. No, really, I couldn't, she says, and then gives her flat stomach a conspiratorial little pat. Everyone who is pressing a fork into that first tender layer looks at the person who declined the plate, and they all think, That person is better than I am. That person has discipline. But that isn't a person with discipline, that is a person who has completely lost touch with joy. A slice of cake never made anybody fat. You don't eat the whole cake. You don't eat cake every day of your life. You take cake when it is offered because the cake is delicious. You have a slice of cake and what it reminds you of is some place that's safe, uncomplicated, without stress. A cake is a party, a birthday, a wedding. A cake is what's served on the happiest days of your life.


Amen to that.

{Vanilla sponge, layered with raspberry cream & fresh raspberries; dressed in freshly whipped cream}