Since leaving New Orleans, we’ve been forced to get our King Cakes by mail. It’s expensive, but worth it. I favor Manny Randazzo’s, plain cinnamon. This year, my loving spouse ordered one as a birthday cake for me. Saturday, he told me, “I have good news and I have bad news.”
“The good news is, the King Cake was delivered.” Mmmm. That’ll soften the blow for whatever his bad news is. I was still thinking about yummy sweet icing and crunchy sugar when he gave me the bad news. “They left it by the front door, and the critters got at it.”
Wha? No, not MY birthday king cake. But there it was, a cardboard UPS box decorated with Mardi Gras colors, with a huge hole in it through which I could see bite marks taken out of the cake!
And no, I didn’t cut that part off and eat the rest!
But I thought about it…