Monday, July 16, 2012

The buzzz..

It's been in my head for well over 4 hours now and I can't get rid of it. It's haunting me, driving me mad to the point where I just want to break down and sob and rush home and...
...make cake.

I know I've said it before, but I'm a baking junkie. And I got it bad this time. Originally I was going to post this elaborate debate over the age-old question: Cake or pie? I know that there are people out there -poor, deprived and uncivilized people- who don't like cake.

I should sneer when I say that, because I'm one to talk. I don't really like pie.

In any case, I started writing out the complications of cake vs pie and I started searching my top favorite food websites, trying to find an image and recipe to capture my passion about cake. Glorious cake. Fluffy cake with a delicate yet moist crumb paired with a gorgeous and silky frosting- and that's when it hit me. My hankering to bake. I've kept it at bay as of late, due to the heat outside and my self-conscious attempt to train for another running event (do you know how hard it is to run 5K when your insides are stuffed with brownies and cheesecake?) but I can't deny it's there. I've dealt with my craving in short bursts of fruity sherberts and low-sugar jams or compotes. I crave for both the action and the result of this obsessive habit of mine.
The act of baking relaxes me. The stirring of the batter, measuring out the ingredients, making buttermilk and even putting all of the ingredients back in their place afterwards. It's my zen.
Of course, eating the cake is also good. I enjoy almost everything I make with a few exceptions (garbanzo pound cake, for anyone who's interest) and lately, it's been the eating aspect that I crave.

I want to stuff my face with a chocolate cake laced with caramel. I want to lick my spoon after diving into a delicious butterscotch pots de creme. I need to swim in a pool of warm dulce de leche cheesecake. I can envision these items before me as I type and I am so close to eating my keyboard in an attempt to ease this pain. I'm aching for these sugary delights and while my stomach grumbles, my brain is cackling. Because I know I've done this to myself. I've revealed my inner light, my sanctuary, and it just so happens to be full of brownies, cupcakes, cookies and cake.

Damn, we're back to cake.

I've always hated this draw toward cake because a whole cake is a lot for one person to eat, but I hate to give something away when I've carefully crafted it to my personal tastebuds! A couple of months ago I found a delicious recipe for a coffee-mug cake. It's cake, but it's single-sized portions and it's mixed and baked right in a coffee mug. The danger to this is that I'll want one every night. I did that once and I don't think my jeans have still forgiven me. So if I give in this one time and cave in and make a cake for myself tonight... what's going to stop me tomorrow? And the day after that? It will only fuel my craving and demand more. More chocolate, more white chocolate chips, more cinnamon, more Nutella, mix in that cookie butter spread, stuff it with candy bars and Oero cookies!

Oh dear lord, I've become a monster. I'll have no friends if this keeps up. Well, no human friends. I guess I can always mold a face out of the enormous pile of butter I always have in the fridge. Is that too weird? I hope someone else has an obsession as sick as mine, because I honestly don't know if I'll ever stop dreaming and drooling over sugar encrusted muffins and samples of peanut butter cookie balls.

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