I made a Maple Bacon Cake (above) last weekend for friends. I owed one friend a 7-up cake (below) and I didn't want the others to be empty-handed. They bought home slices of the Maple Bacon Cake, and they and their families loved it so much that I have to make 6 more of the same cake by saturday. I'm going to be busy.
Doing what I love.
I always feel my grandfather's presence when I'm cooking, and baking and when people like what I've made, I imagine him smiling. I feel proud. I don't know if I said this before, but my grandfather was a chef, and when my mother and her sisters were growing up, they never learned to cook. He did all the cooking. My quality time with my grandfather was spent in the kitchen, or the grocery stores, meat markets, and fish markets of Montreal Quebec. Everything pertaining to food. When I need to feel his presence, his strength, I go to my kitchen and I bake. I'm always baking cakes for the neighbors or I bring a cake to work. I'm going to bake a Maple Bacon Cake to bring to work next week. Whoever with whom I'm in a relationship, or whoever I marry, she never has to cook if she doesn't want to. I'd rather do it.