Cakes - a history of birthdays vs. mine, tomorrow, during pandemic
I circled the refrigerated single-slice section at the grocery store. I just wanted one slice, for celebrating my birthday. I didn't want to make my own, though I did that most of my life - traditional Angel-food, eggs separated; sculptured dragon made from a Bundt pan; doubled-inverted Bundt cakes dressed to look like a pumpkin. I was an ambitious baker in my teens.
I thought about a multi-layer chocolate cake with thick, fudgy icing. But that's the Cake of Public Acceptance - the one you bring to potlucks. Everybody loves chocolate, and so do I, but no. I'm the only one at this party so I don't have to worry about impressing anybody.
Red velvet is the Cake of Sharing - I used to show up at my friend Meg's house with two red velvet cupcakes, because she liked the ones from the bakery near my house. But that's Meg's cake.
German Chocolate - this is the Cake of Childhood Expectations, my mom's favorite; I used to make her birthday cake every year, too. I never really liked coconut.
Boston Cream Pie is the Cake of Surviving. I almost went for it in honor of the days when my daughter and I picked up free food - almost always with a days-old Boston Cream Pie - from the church across the street from our apartment. I miss that life more than any I've lived; I once tried to talk my husband into moving to California, back into the same apartment complex. He wasn't entirely charmed.
By this time I was about to lose it in emotions but then I found it: my Cake of 2020. It was a tidy selection of 5 different cheesecakes. First of all, there's no way all five of them could suck. Second, I could (in theory) keep them in the freezer, and maybe not eat all five within the next three days.
Maybe. I mean, I'm celebrating.
Further fun & games: