Quadruple Chocolate Loaf Cake
My sister, that dear girl, likes to make fun of my future. Or rather, she feels rather sympathetic towards my non-existent son.
Mommy, I’m going to school!
-Wait! You forgot your cookie!
No, mommy, I already have my cookie.
–Mommy baked another cookie for you, darling!
No, it’s alright. I also have my cake and my candy and my pie that you baked for me…
–And here’s one more cookie! Share it with your little friends.
My future child is apparently going to be one chubby little guy.
If my child does end up fat…what of it, sister? His physicality is just a symbol of my love. I am a feeder, and I’m proud of it. No child of mine will grow up in life without eating butter or sugar by the cupful. I will probably turn out rolly polly later in life too—but that’s just a bit more to love in the future. I like being squishy.
Hoho, with you as an aunt, sister, we both will be presenting this boy with so many sweets.
Then again…perhaps I want that non-existent boy to live past 35. All that yummy stuff might do bad things to his health. So…only a cup of butter and sugar a day instead of the usual 2kg. Fair?
It was a good friend’s birthday last week so I rolled up my sleeves to make a magnificent butter and sugar and chocolate concoction. This friend likes chocolate. This friend also turned 20. 20?! Oh goodness me, she is getting so much closer and closer to adulthood and maturity that I start reminiscing about the first time when we met as kids…2 years ago. She’s not a teen anymore. And has just entered the third decade of her life. (This is a moment of celebration, by the way, I’m not trying to make anyone sound old—not that I’m ageist.)
Nigella Lawson’s Quadruple Chocolate Loaf Cake sounded like it had enough chocolate in it to suit our taste buds. It was a fiiiine cake. I shaved a Cadbury burnt almond dark chocolate bar with a veggie peeler for the topping. I thought myself so clever at that moment. That illusion burst when I found out that a piece of spaghetti is not a good tool to poke holes in the cake for the syrup. Let’s just say that whoever finds the odd pieces of spaghetti in the cake wins a prize?
Mmm…with this cake under hat, I shall continue my journey of nurturing folk with butter and sugar. And chocolate.