The Coconut Cake: A Catch 22
For holiday occasions, my dear sainted and departed mother would make a Coconut Cake. This delightful confection would consist of a white layer cake separated by apricot or strawberry or raspberry jam, and would be covered with a delectable butter cream frosting. To the top of the cake, she would add coconut flakes, and appropriate sprinkles of green and red colored sugar crystals, for Christmas, or chocolate sprinkles for Easter.
She would lure us to her home with the promise of a piece of this cake, and that is where the Catch 22 would come in. After we would eat one generous portion of the cake, she would ask if we would like another. If I said, “Yes, please,” she would retort, “Patti, you are just falling away to a ton, but if you want to be fat, I guess that is your business!” If I said, “No, thanks,” she would respond, “What’s the matter, you didn’t like my cake? What, are you sick?”
With my mother, one could never win the game.
For those who think it is a deficient moral character to want a second piece of cake, I say this: I am a bonafide member of the Clean Plate Club. In addition, I would rather die happy than to sit around a nursing home in my nineties, slowly slipping away.
While my husband thrives on eating hot, spicy foods, I have always gravitated toward sweet things…which is probably why I like him so much!
Now, that I have shared this intimate tale of entangling family alliances, I think that I’ll go check my fridge, on the off chance that I might still have some coconut lurking in the crisper box. Old habits are hard to break.
Enjoy the holidays, and remember that the word “diet” is a four letter word!
Patricia
