Let them eat cake

I have, unfortunately, more than once in my life been accused of attempting to have my cake and eat it. This week, the finger of blame points assuredly towards me, but the matter does not involve one cake, but approximately 15. There are some weeks when someone gets a year older, and then there are weeks when everyone seems to be celebrating their birthday. And we all know that birthdays mean cake. And if there’s cake, I’m not going to say no.

Cake number one got sploshed on the birthday girl’s face before being consumed. Jade’s birthday party was sprung on me much as her face was on to the cake: I got home from work, ready to receive a call, eat lunch and get ready for my evening classes, all with calm and a goal to work towards. These plans were blasted from the water by the words ‘party’, ‘mole’, and ‘ahorita’. Apparently I’d been told about it. Apparently I’d forgotten. I wasn’t going to complain, as mole is one of those chocolate, chilli and chicken concoctions which I would find as hard to turn down as a backrub from Mr Depp. And to accompany it, there was a rip-roaringly drunk Mama Callie,a live Mariachi band, and the aforementioned cake. Everybody else present knew without exception all of the mariachi songs, and the idea is to be able to request the songs of my choice and sing along to them by the end of the year. In the mean time I ate cake.

Then when Teresa’s birthday came around, I contributed personally to the cake provision. For lack of other ideas for a present, and as a vague attempt to live up to my family name, I baked a chocolate cake (chocolate cloud cake to be precise). I chose this cake carefully as I wanted to impress with an understated but astonishingly tasty sweet treat. Chedraui Supermarket, however, didn’t have the same idea. Thus my chocolate cake was made with a chocolate substitute, the wrong sort of cream, and lumpy sugar. The ‘hecho con amor’ comment seemed to do the trick though, and the ugliness and sickly texture of my sorry-looking cake were forgiven. The other 4 cakes at the table also helped to soften my failure and fill everyone present up with dangerous levels of sugar and cream.

The other 8 cakes were to be seen but not eaten: they were arranged in an artistic circular suspension installation at the wedding-like 15^th birthday party of a student from our school. The cakes were positioned next to the indoor canopy hanging over the high table, alongside the soft-focus photos of the birthday girl in various different outfits, lining the walls of the venue. These nicely complimented the 8 white plastic cherub plinths lining the entrance path, and the life-size cardboard cut-out of the birthday girl. As I said, they were to be seen, not enjoyed.