I'm sorry to have missed last week's post. I went to New Jersey for three days and returned to Virginia with a "tummy bug." I spent most of the week on the sofa, bloated and groaning and thankful that I had the Olympics for entertainment.
Now I'm feeling like my old self. Okay, maybe I should say OLDER self, as my birthday is on the 21st. Several folks have asked me what I'd like for my birthday and I can honestly answer, "I want cake." That's right. No bling. No concert tickets. No cruises to the Caribbean. Cake.
Don't you remember being that child at someone else birthday party and hoping, hands clutched as they hovered above a birthday-themed party plate, that you'd get a corner piece or the elusive rose? I remember. The cake was important to me. Even more important than the goodie bag.
If I were stuck on a deserted island and could only have three foods. I'd have fresh water, some kind of fruit, and birthday cake. Seriously. I once saw a nutritionist and she asked, "Do you think you could get over your love of Costco cakes by just buying one and eating it for every meal?" I gave her question serious consideration before answering, "No. That's not gonna work."
The one I want is not availabe in Virginia. It's a cake that is indigenous to the Northeast (as far as I know) and it's called a seven layer cake. It looks like a chocolate-covered brick and has the thinnest layers of sublty rum-soaked yellow cake layered with light, smooth buttercream frosting....STOP! I'm drooling!
My cake fantasy will actually be fufilled because I brought one home from the Swiss Chalet bakery in Morristown, NJ. It's in the freezer right now. It's been calling to me since Saturday.
Does this gift to myself make a good accompaniment to my Jenny Criag diet? No. Do I care? No. Let me eat cake!
What's your all-time favorite cake? Any other Leos out there?