We iz cakeholics. Much.

As far back as I can recall, safely, I can say that almost all of my birthday cakes in my early years are made of thick, butter vanilla batter. The decadent DIY decorations, and the creative twists my dad would do on each cake as I embark a little bit closer to adulthood is still precious to me. Birthdays was THE deal back then – it was the only time where I could do no wrong and break any piece of porcelain without getting a scolding, bring the cat into the house cause it was my party that very evening. I still have photos of myself bawling away with microphone in one hand, my face pointed to the sky in a star-like stance and my poor cat almost slipping between my tiny forearms. I was always dressed in a fluffy frock – socks and all.

Later as the years go by and independence (or so I thought) was mine, we would find other means to fulfill the cake-ish demand we had. In Uni years it was the birth of the much needed Secret Recipe cake store. Oh man, its hard to begin to describe how much that store was needed – and the market was dying for something that had consistent quality and the variety of choices it provided to the customers. We would read the menus front to back, tick on the ones that we enjoyed most and double-ticked those we would plan to come back for seconds. We would ask our friends who would be making day trips into the city and bring back 5-7 boxes of the special cakes in one time. Back then the cakes were priced at rm7.50 per slice I still remember.

So many years later as I hit the big three-O mark – I still find it funny in a way that Mika enjoys cake just as much as I do. We big cake eaters we are. He enjoys looking at the frosting – saying how beautiful it is, and admiring the sprinkles and the metallic decorative tiny balls tumbled all over the creamy frosting. But mostly it is about the cake itself. I shared a lot of photos of him eating cake – and yeah, its pretty neat that he loves cake just as much as I do.