After blowing out the candles on my birthday cake, I asked for the piece with the pink and yellow roses on top.
Why? Because I love frosting. And this cake was topped with almond frosting from Janet’s, a local favorite.
My stepfather, more of a popcorn and peanuts kind of guy, asked for a small piece. When he was finished, I noticed a significant glob of white fluffy icing remained on his plate.
“You didn’t eat all your cake,” I said.
“I just don’t care for all that sweetness” he said, rising from his chair to take the plate to the kitchen sink.
Whoa! Wait a second there, cowboy. You aren’t going to throw away that confectionery delight, are you? Just scoop it on my plate, please.
The world, you see, is divided into two kinds of people. There’s no middle ground. There’s no compromise. You either love frosting or you don’t.
I belong to the “I’ll have a little cake with my frosting” party.
My childhood friend Muriel Ann Glitzengelder is right there with me. She’s the type of person who, when cutting herself a piece of cake, will run the serving knife along the edge of the cake plate to clean up the leftover icing edges.
Don’t pretend like you think that’s gross. You do it, too. If you belong to my party, that is.
Members of the other party, if they have cake at all, will ask for an “inside” piece of a sheet cake because it has the least amount of creamy glaze.
People who love frosting are also the type who will lick the inside of an Oreo cookie sandwich before eating the chocolate cookie part. (Or they lick the inside and then throw away the cookie parts.)
Likewise, some people like brownies with a layer of frosting and some say naked brownies are best.
Muriel Ann was working the late shift on my birthday so I decided to take her a piece of cake. I botched transferring the slice from the plate to a plastic container, causing the two-tier serving to fall apart.
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“Uh-oh,” said my mom.
“Muriel Ann won’t mind,” I said with confidence. I used the serving knife and a little extra frosting “spackle” to patch it together again. Beautiful, it was not; delicious, it was.
But if I’m a member of the “All Frosting All the Time” party, then the president is none other than Sissy Blissman, the sweetest person you’d ever want to meet. Maybe she’s sweet because she likes sweets.
But like all of us, Sissy isn’t always on top of the world. The other day she was feeling blue because her husband was out of town on a business trip.
She was lonely at night, she said, and so for dinner, two nights in a row, she ate a can of frosting.
Take a moment to digest that if you need to. Two cans of frosting in two days.
I don’t judge my friends, especially when it comes to emotional eating, but I have to say the thought of eating that much frosting made my toes curl.
“And you know what I discovered?” she said.
I sat quietly, listening to her confession.
“Walmart’s brand of frosting is just as creamy as the expensive brand. Why spend so much?”
(It was time for a confection correction.)
“SISSY!!” I said. “I can’t believe you ate two whole cans of frosting! Even I, in my darkest hour, would probably retch halfway into the second can. How could you do it?”
“One spoonful at a time,” she said.
The next time your husband is out of town, I said, just call me. That’s what friends are for!
She smiled and added, “We could go out for dinner!”
Sure, I agreed. That would be the icing on the cake.
Contact Susan Hazlett at firstname.lastname@example.org or write to her in care of The Pantagraph, 205 N. Main St., Bloomington, IL 61702-2907.