When your wife brings home a Banana Cake… walk away.
Tuesday night was Pita’s birthday. Not her real name, a nickname. I picked up some Pad Thai. My wife had been raving about these Banana Cakes from some fancy bakery downtown and brought one home for the party. It wasn’t big, maybe ten inches in diameter but it weighed at least five pounds.
My son has some gluten thing so couldn’t eat it, Pita doesn’t eat much, ever, so only had a small piece, my wife could only manage a small piece herself.
That left two thirds of the cake for me, maybe three quarters.
To be honest, the cake didn’t look that appealing. Four layers, butter cream icing, some caramel drizzle and some fancy butter cream decoration on top.
Then I took a bite…
O… M… G…
Hands down, one of the best cakes I have ever tasted.
If you were keeping track; my son didn’t have a piece, Pita a small piece, my wife a small one too. Leaving about four pounds of cake. I couldn’t stop eating it, all will power gone. Now that’s a lot of cake, so much in fact, that I couldn’t eat breakfast or lunch the next day.
So when your wife brings home a Banana Cake… walk away.