Let Them Eat Cake (because I can't take another bite)

Last Saturday was my daughter's 10th birthday party. You'd think that it would coincide with her 10th birthday, but that would show how little you know about NYC birthday parties, my daughter, and me.

Her birthday is in July, but after years of 1.4 people being able to attend her summer birthday party in the years past, amidst trips to the Hamptons and general summering, she asked that the party be held before school let out. To maximize on the gifts, I suspect, but she insisted because she wanted to have fun with her friends. Fun. Whatever. The good part for me, of course, is getting the birthday party over with. I'm all for ripping that band aid off and saving everyone the time and the anxiety. Except when it comes to the literal band aids, of course. I like to take my time with those.

So. Fortunately the birthday party was being held in one of those venues where they are happy to do everything for you as long as you throw money at them. Almost like a business. And they offer cake. They offer a brochure with pictures of cakes, food porn for the prepubescent crowd. My daughter chose a cake called "pile of gifts". Adorable, boxes of cake gifts stacked up on top of each other, a fondant cake. Am I the only one who didn't know that there was a word like "fondant" until I described the cake to my friend as "super smooth and weddingy" and he said "fondant, we call it in English."

I ordered the cake. It was $120. So far, so good, right. Besides the highway robbery part, I mean.

Except when we arrived at the party, the cake wasn't fondant. It was more of a fun-don't. It was just a cake, a three layer cake to be sure, but it looked, I don't know--home made. I don't want a cake that looks home made. And I sure as hell don't want a cake that tastes home made. I wanted it to look like Martha Stewart was involved. Surely $120 gets you that much, even with the nearly worthless dollar.

And the worst part? Apparently the cake served 10,095 because we had a lot left over that they covered up with some foil and presented to us. It's been in our refrigerator ever since. I am the only one who eats it. It doesn't taste good. As a matter of fact, despite looking like a devil's food cake, it is almost entirely flavor-free. Being the glass half-full kind of gal (and not just because of frequent refills!), I think that at least it doesn't taste bad.

But I eat the cake every night, after the kids are asleep, as some kind of culinary penance. I can't just throw it out, can I? I mean, not when people are starving. And I can't give it away, because shelters don't accept home made foods (SEE? Just another reason why I didn't want it to look homemade!)

The good news is that I am almost done with the cake. The bad news is that I feel nauseated just thinking about it.