My dad has a rightly earned spot of pride for his caramel cake. And on special occasions, occasions so special they celebrate the sweet tooth, he whips out this secret family recipe and struts his culinary skills.
And I mean secret. Only one person knows the recipe . . . guess who.
I can’t even remember if he’s offered to teach us. My father and I hold a rivalry in the kitchen. He claims to be the better cook. I – obviously – disagree. We had a cook off one year, and because he went first (it was a nice roast, granted) I was able to step up the game with a meal of buttered potatoes and I can’t remember what else (these potatoes were so good, that the rest of the night draws blank).
But when it comes to dessert I just can’t whip him. Sure, he always pulls out the caramel cake, but I’ve never countered with a better option.
So today Dad, for your birthday, I will concede this point: you make the better cake.
Happy birthday 🙂 Love you.