With all the excessive and ridiculous attention I lavished on myself last week, I neglected to show you the cake I made for Neil’s birthday …
Isn’t it gorgeous? First I made the bottom layer, a delicate chocolate mousse, then I added a crispy wafer layer and then I did something to eggs and butter and there was a whisk involved, oh for god’s sake, I have no idea how anybody makes a cake like this. Perhaps the custom made chocolate disc with Patisserie Alexandre written on it was your first clue that I didn’t make this cake. Although I did walk all the way to the bakery and order it, in French, which essentially amounts to the same thing.
Anyway, he ate the whole thing all by himself. I didn’t eat one bite of this marvel of confection. I couldn’t. I mean the poor man had worked his arse off in Canada for two weeks right? Then he spent almost 24 hours in planes, trains and automobiles, on his birthday. Then he was met at the door by a half starved lunatic who yik-yakked at him for 6 hours without taking a breath because she hadn’t had human contact for several days. Then he had to make his own birthday dinner as any other option was too terrifying.
So yes, let him eat cake I said. It is the duty of a good wife to always be sensitive to the needs of her husband.