Thank You, Cake
Dear Cake,
It’s been so long, I can’t believe I have never thanked you.
I even remember the first time we met. You were large, rectangular and chocolatey, with light purple icing that wished me a happy fourth birthday. You came from Lana, and your taste became what I thought all chocolate cake should taste like — fudgy, rich, yet light enough to have a second slice.
My next birthday, Mum decided to get you from a bakery at Sunset Way. You were mango that year. I remember not being able to decide if I liked the tropical flavour, while missing the straightforward, chocolatey simplicity Lana promised. You’ve come and gone many more times throughout the years, and although I can’t remember how you tasted or looked like every time — or even where you came from — I will never forget squeezing with my cousins around the dining table, craning my neck to take a good look at you.
Sometimes, Mum would come home from work randomly with a pandan flavoured you from Bengawan Solo. You came in a plastic container, standing tall, light and fluffy with a hole in the middle. Since it wasn’t for a birthday or occasion, I was always allowed a big piece. I was fascinated by your texture, squishing you down and watching you magically spring back to life. I came to understand that you were also there for us on days where we just needed a little lift. We didn’t always need to have a special reason to have you. Those were the best days.
When I got older and naughtier in university, you soon became something my team mates and I bought for our birthdays. For those times, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for having a little too much fun defacing you with sometimes inappropriate language or imagery at those “decorate it yourself” places, and subsequently grabbing handfuls of you to smash on the lucky birthday girl’s face or jersey. I’m sorry for running around with you in hand, ready to strike, and not finishing every bit of you. I hope you know that those moments would never have been the same without you, vanilla sponge cake with fresh cream.
I usually hate surprises, but for my 20th birthday, you gave me the most epic surprise of all. 40 of you in different cupcake versions turned up, each with a polaroid of a good friend attached in place of candles! That’s one birthday I will never forget. Mainly because I felt sick for about a week trying to finish all of you.
Do you remember the time I made you out of a mountain of 100 fried chicken wings? I know, you’re usually made of sugar, butter, eggs and flour, but I really wanted wings for my 25th. I ate 25 of you that night. It didn’t matter that you were a little different, we had fun together, didn’t we?
But most of all, thank you for being at my wedding, all five of you! When I realized I could have any kind of party I wanted, it didn’t take long to decide that I would dedicate a whole table to you. And there you stood, proudly, in various heights and shapes and flavours. Everyone remembers you, loved you. Especially you, four-tiered lemon cream cake with blueberries on top.
It’s long overdue, but I hope you will accept this note of thanks. For always being there at almost every celebration, for being so versatile, so beautiful, so tasty. But most of all, thank you for sharing yourself, for always giving what you can to everyone present, and for making sure we all gather to share that one thing together. Without you, celebrations wouldn’t be the same. We’d have nothing to look forward to, to rush down for, to stand around and take photos with, to oooh and aaah over, and to make a mess with. Even in your simplest form, you never fail to bring a smile to my face. For that joy alone, I owe you everything.
With love,
Jayne
Need a fabulous cake for your next celebration? Here you go:
