There are many things in this lifetime I do not understand; things like why Murphy’s Law exists and seems to be the only cause of pressure on my back or why less than 15% tippers exist in the world. Maybe I simply don’t understand how my cat can sleep all day and still yawn fifteen minutes after he wakes. Or maybe I don’t get why traveling isn’t mandatory for every twenty-one year old. But. The one thing that does not make sense to me is something very simple and something that is very easily avoidable.
So here it is, I have written an open letter to people who put jam in cakes.
I have three questions for you. Why? Why? Why would you do this to me? Let me paint a little picture for you. I am sitting down at table twelve sipping on one of my four drinks in front of me after I’ve eaten every “finger-sized” appetizer this wedding has to offer. I’ve actually become quite good friends with each of the servers, especially Tom. He will pass other guests to give me the first picking of a new hors d’oeuvres as I’ll give him a casual wink and stuff a brie filled piece of phyllo dough shamelessly into my mouth. I’ve eaten three twelve-inch plates of the rich creamy everything. Pieces of steak so buttery it would change the beliefs of a vegetarian, salmon so perfectly cooked you actually vocalize to your not so friendly neighbor how delicious it is complete with a few “OH MYs” as if something had startled you.
It’s time for cake. Can I even fit a piece of that beautiful pearly white cake in my stomach? As my mouth begins to fill with saliva, I daydream about this cake. Is it chocolate? Vanilla? RED VELVET? (To my future husband: our cake will be red velvet with cream cheese frosting. And if you don’t agree, well then we might as well call it off now.) The bride and groom finally make their way over to said cake, we all wait to ooh and ahh and laugh as the two lovebirds smear cake all over each other’s panic-stricken faces. Here’s another thing I don’t understand. Why has this become a tradition? I’ve been doing a pretty good job myself with this whole food in mouth thing and trying not to get it on my face. I’m batting a solid .900 in this department.
The cake has been placed in front of me. I see a chocolate cake with white butter cream and some sort of red glossy spread in between. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS. I really and truly do not understand it. Jam should be (p)reserved for toast or maybe a nice crumpet. NOT cake. I am now frustrated with the turn my life has taken.
Tom? Get me another gin and