Cakes

My cake patience is wearing thin. I can no longer pretend to be enthralled with a cake that is not really a cake. If it’s in the shape of a designer shoe or is a lifelike replica of a favorite pet, it is really less about the cake and more about the design. It is form over function, cake as afterthought. This does not happen to other foods. I have yet to attend a party where the chef has sewn together a string of delicious steaks into a golf club or fedora. I have never seen (and hope to never see) a baby rattle composed of salmon fillets. But cake abuse has no limits. I admire the design and architecture involved to create these stunning showstoppers, but they are, too often, not something I would want to eat.