Somehow in my family a tradition of having a cake from Baskin Robbins got started. I generally have to go buy one for myself on my birthday, and this year I picked the one my friend dubbed “a sperm cake.” Really, I’ll never be able to look at a balloon the same way again. Happy birthday to me. The sperm were delicious.
Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “eating cake.”
First 50 Words - Prompts for Writing Practice 
Eating cake was not one of my favorite things as a child, but I remember that I loved the frosting since it was the main part of the cake I ate. As an adult, I really enjoy cake and it’s ironic because now it takes longer to shed those extra pounds that accumulate with the sweets, but my favorite part is still the frosting, especially if made of cream.
When my school-aged sons were young and there was an unexpected snowfall that caused the administration to dismiss the children early they could not wait to get off their school bus. Why? Because I always baked what became known in the family as “a snow cake.” There they would sit with hot chocolate while eating cake. The snow cake never lasted very long. I always baked a cake with coconut icing thinking that it would look more like a flaky snowfall than anything else. To this day they still remember the snow cake. Speaking of eating cake. My mother made a wicked Philly cream cheese chocolate triple layer cake every Christmas. My uncle hated chocolate but let me tell you he adored that cake. And there’s more. My husband makes a death by triple chocolate cake every year for my birthday with raspberry filling. This cake has three kinds of chocolate and tons of cream. Oh my God! I’m drooling just thinking about it. If I persuaded him this morning to bake that death by chocolate cake, I’d be eating cake right now instead of typing.
“You can’t have your cake and eat it too.” I have no idea why this mantra popped into my head – perhaps because I shot my wad at the prompt of “eating pie.” The only cakes that can bring some light to my eyes when mentioned, with the exception of one, are really “breads.” Even then I worry because like most other dessert items they may be “ersatz” or made with substitute ingredients. The cake I most desire is a home made angel food cake with butter cream frosting and orange peels. Of course, part of the non-negotiables are that the ingredients must be all genuine including sugar. No grocery store or other store bought angel food cake suffices.
I remember the first time I made a cake. This was a special cake for my Mom’s Birthday. How carefully I read the recipe, how precisely I measured all the ingredients. It was a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. How slowly I put it in the oven,checking and double checking the temperature. I sat by the stove watching it cook, almost reverently. This was going to be the best cake ever! About 10 minutes before it was done my Brother came in slamming the door behind him. The cake fell, and my world ended. I cried about it, but Mom said it tasted pretty good anyway.
For my fourth birthday I had a beautiful cake decorated by our neighbor, a professional.
I bent over, eyes closed, to blow out my candles and she smashed my face into the cake, ruining my dress.
Supposedly, I needed to learn to “loosen up.”
I refused to eat a bite.
Everyone has their own quirks about cakes in my home . The younger one loves chocolate cake , any shape and size will do . If I do not slather my cake with chocolate icing , she makes her own version of chocolate sauce and is very happy using it. Elder one professes to love vanilla and strawberry , but she has been known to raid the fridge at ungodly hours for a bite of her sister’s gooey chocolatey brownies.
I , for one, do not go for colour or flavour . Anything sweet will do . My cakes are sweet , as in veering towards ungodly levels . My husband keeps a constant check on the amount of sugar , before I turn a baked goodie into “poisonously sweet substance “.
This Christmas , I had vowed to bake plum cake . I wanted to soak the dry fruits in rum , but having teetotallers around didn’t help much . As a result , I baked several cakes with the dry fruits soaked in orange juice .
Got complimented for them , so I guess I did ok .
Eating cake , warm from the oven is a ritual in our home . Papa cuts the cake up into bite size pieces and places them into plastic containers , for he does it best .
Now , that he is away , his daughters do the honours , and we miss him .
Chocolate cake eaters demand vanilla ice cream to increase the sin quotient . After the double dessert , most of us teeter on the edge of a food coma, and my daughter becomes hyper -charged . It is a guilty pleasure we all indulge in .