Who the hell throws cake in the bin?
I’ve been whittling away at a chunk of chocolate mousse cake that The Artist brought home from his mother’s house on Saturday. He had purchased it at a fine Patisserie around the corner and their baked goods are literally to die for!
But these kind of cakes sometimes have to mature. Like cheese or wine. It wasn’t that good on the first day so I left it to stand in the fridge until Tuesday and then I slowly started treating myself to
five or so a spoon or two a day.
I arrived home yesterday to finally finish what I started only to find the cake missing. I peered into the bin and there it was in its takeaway container. I wanted to scream rather loudly because I had been waiting all day to finish the cake. Most of you ladies will know exactly what I’m talking about when you’re anticipating the cake and then it’s gone. It’s like having an orgasm stolen from you. [I thank Lara Christie for this reference in a spin class a while back].
I removed it from the bin (still in it’s container) and weighed up my options. However, sadly I decided that it had been in the bin all day and so I returned it to its final resting place. I felt so cheated. And I wanted to smack The Artist. Rather hard. Because he had put the cake in the bin, having decided that it was almost a week old. And??????
When confronted he thought it perhaps a bigger issue that I had taken the cake out of the bin and considered possibly eating it. Apparently my bottom line when it comes to cake is something he cannot fathom.
Hi disbelief was compounded a few hours later when he attempted to try and ice a cupcake. There are no words to describe the sacriledge – how hard is it to ice a cupcake I ask you? [Clearly as hard as it would be for me to balance a spreadsheet]. He then didn’t want to eat a cupcake that “looked like that” so I offered to lick it off. Apparently it’s bad manners to lick someone’s cupcake and then expect them to eat it. I still have so much to learn.
But what I do take away from this experience is that one must either lable the cake with a post it note and declare that if someone touches it there will be death by licking! That should fix the problem.
The Artist is still clucking to himself about how he’s living with a bag lady. Best he doesn’t know about the three second rule. Or how often he’s been a victim of it.
Excuse me now while I go and find a cupcake to lick.