Let them eat cake
May. 1st, 2008 05:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
penfield"Candy
Is dandy
But liquor
Is quicker."
- Ogden Nash
I'll be the first to admit, I'm fussy about desserts. I like my post-meal sweets straight-up and traditional, like chocolate chip cookies, yellow cake and a soft-serve vanilla-chocolate swirl. I don't go in for those artsy and elaborate tea cookies. I conscientiously avoid anything with a high volume-to-mass ratio, such as mousse or flan. And I cannot abide anything that can't decide if it's solid or liquid, like pudding or custard (milkshakes, which I love, are justified as being ice cream in mid-melt).
What drives me most crazy, though, is the things people are doing to cake these days. Sneaking fruits and vegetables in there like I wouldn't notice. Zucchini bread? Anathema. Carrot cake? An abomination. What's next -- Celery shortcake? If it's not fruits or vegetables, its some other creamy perversion, like those mentioned above, polluting the otherwise pristine cakematter. And don't even get me started on of cheesecake, The Unholy Hybrid. These are not cake. These are "caque."
My office, like most offices, provides birthday celebrations for each employee, and invariably my coworkers request one of these stupid fluffy monstrosities. And rather than gag and make faces, I simply decline when a slice of cake is passed my way. My colleagues have, over time, picked up on this, and because they cannot conceive that someone would be repulsed by their overglossed gastropornography, they assume that I am practicing some kind of willpower in pursuit of a healthy diet. (I have inadvertently encouraged this line of thinking with my stockpile of Lean Cuisine entrees in the office freezer, but that's only because they were on sale.)
On Tuesday, one of my colleagues requested a cheesecake for her 40th birthday. I was sort of hungry for a midday snack, but there was no way I was going to swallow a slice of that. So I went across the street to McDonald's and picked up a caramel sundae. I was all ready to shock everyone at the table, but they just nodded as someone said, "Hey, aren't those sundaes made with low-fat ice cream? Way to stay healthy!"
I can't help it. Even when I try to be bad, I'm good.
Is dandy
But liquor
Is quicker."
- Ogden Nash
I'll be the first to admit, I'm fussy about desserts. I like my post-meal sweets straight-up and traditional, like chocolate chip cookies, yellow cake and a soft-serve vanilla-chocolate swirl. I don't go in for those artsy and elaborate tea cookies. I conscientiously avoid anything with a high volume-to-mass ratio, such as mousse or flan. And I cannot abide anything that can't decide if it's solid or liquid, like pudding or custard (milkshakes, which I love, are justified as being ice cream in mid-melt).
What drives me most crazy, though, is the things people are doing to cake these days. Sneaking fruits and vegetables in there like I wouldn't notice. Zucchini bread? Anathema. Carrot cake? An abomination. What's next -- Celery shortcake? If it's not fruits or vegetables, its some other creamy perversion, like those mentioned above, polluting the otherwise pristine cakematter. And don't even get me started on of cheesecake, The Unholy Hybrid. These are not cake. These are "caque."
My office, like most offices, provides birthday celebrations for each employee, and invariably my coworkers request one of these stupid fluffy monstrosities. And rather than gag and make faces, I simply decline when a slice of cake is passed my way. My colleagues have, over time, picked up on this, and because they cannot conceive that someone would be repulsed by their overglossed gastropornography, they assume that I am practicing some kind of willpower in pursuit of a healthy diet. (I have inadvertently encouraged this line of thinking with my stockpile of Lean Cuisine entrees in the office freezer, but that's only because they were on sale.)
On Tuesday, one of my colleagues requested a cheesecake for her 40th birthday. I was sort of hungry for a midday snack, but there was no way I was going to swallow a slice of that. So I went across the street to McDonald's and picked up a caramel sundae. I was all ready to shock everyone at the table, but they just nodded as someone said, "Hey, aren't those sundaes made with low-fat ice cream? Way to stay healthy!"
I can't help it. Even when I try to be bad, I'm good.
