25 September 2005
Cake is God
It arrived at my daughter's morning soccer match, when a woman announced she had to leave early to bake a boiled milk cake. You're writing a book on cake, and you've never heard of a boiled milk cake? her eyes seemed to say. "What about a 1-2-3-4 cake?" She was testing me. This is obviously a pound cake, named for butter, sugar, flour, and eggs. The milk never counts, even though that's what makes it so moist.
Cake was at the Baltimore Book Fair in the guise of a moon bounce. The candles wiggle a bit when the kids are hopping inside, working off that white sugar buzz from all that fried dough their moms used to bribe them to just shut up during the poetry readings that were for their own good.
The cake contest I entered last week was for a birthday cake in honor of the Fair's 100th birthday. (Had I known, I'd have made my entry more festive.) The judging is today at 4:00, and it's hosted by Duff Goldman, the subject of my desires.
Cake happened while I slept last night, too. At midnight, Theater Project hosted one of the High Zero (an experimental music) festival events: Amplified Cake. Actually, it's called Cake Mix, and it features, "[a]n amplified cake [getting] slowly eaten while [the room plays] Baltimore club beats from within. Get yer freak on for sweets."
Forget the illogical syllogism. Cake really is everywhere, and it really is God.