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cake for breakfast

11 Sep

I equate the provision of the occasional cake for breakfast with good motherhood.  I’ve mentioned before that my mother was a terrific cook.  Her kitchen was quintessential healthy Mediterranean long before it became “a thing” (an almost fad diet) in the states, before Mireille Guiliano’s French Women Don’t Get Fat (the concept that someone would even write this book would probably elicit an eye-roll or several from the foreign-born matriarch of the house).  Everything in moderation…including moderation.  Which meant that we never denied ourselves our piece of chocolate, our glass of red wine, our parmigiano reggiano.  It also meant that for one day a year, on my birthday, I could eat cake for breakfast.  (During the rare moments when my mom actually felt the need to justify this parenting decision, she would state that her homemade cake was at least as healthy as the pop tarts with which other parents sent their kids to school.)

Well, Friday was not my birthday, but I indulged anyway…and I think my mom would have approved, as this gluten-free girl has gone without cake for the last several birthdays.  It was the day after another anatomy team-extended potluck, turned into informal baby shower.  We had the best feast.  Apparently, my friends were in cahoots with the hubby, asking him about dinner menu.  I can honestly say it was the best dinner I’ve had in months, and this has been a summer of fabulous eating: sparkling cider; caprese salad with extra basil; fennel and citrus salad; make-your-own personal gluten-free (with homemade cauliflower crust!) pizza; chocolate-covered raspberries and strawberries; best-of-summer fruit salad; soy vanilla ice cream; and flour-less chocolate almond cake.  Thank God the meal was plentiful and the cake was rich, so there were leftovers for me to sneak home to be consumed a mere seven hours later!  I just wish I had snapped pictures of this exceptional spread and the chefs that created it.

But I did get a picture of the baby-shower related game that, despite my concern for all things competitive (I get mean when I “play”), I actually enjoyed considerably.  Hint: it was very med-school-y, and it involved blindfolds:

Just stating the obvious: I love my friends.  Very, very much.