Basil Cake is how I’ve stored the name of the guy who runs the coffee shop at my gym and makes sensational cakes. I ordered two – a bakewell tart and an orange cake as dessert for visitors who came to dinner yesterday evening.
Of course I fannied about with some icing sugar just before I served the cakes to give every impression that I had made them myself. I even muttered something about my pastry being so light thanks to a combination of cold fingertips and hot ovens. My delicious lie was going down a treat until my daughter came home early from a night out and announced to my guests that I must be the only person who goes to the gym to get her cake. How we laughed……..
I did consider getting a cake to celebrate my 30 year wedding anniversary this week – but decided that no treat, even after three decades, could be better than just looking over at my husband and hearing him laugh.
And if that’s too soppy for you, get over it. We got married the day before his 23rd birthday and each year since I have told him that I am his birthday present. I am not sure if he is convinced yet. In truth he has been, and always will be, my gift.