I had a dream of chocolate cake last weekend. It was nothing fancy, just a chocolate cake still in the pan with a thin layer of firm chocolate frosting on it. The tasted was like one of those Hostess chocolate cupcakes without all the additives and if you’ve ever had one of these cakes, then you know that chocolate cake is to do die for. Anyhow, two of my aunts, who live in Georgia, were eating this cake with me. One of them is named Marilyn. She is a rotund women with a big personality and a skunk patch in her hair. She always speaks the blunt truth through a slightly tired but always positive southern accent. She has the gift of being straight forward without being mean. The other is my aunt Mable. She is all of 4ft-10in, but she has the energy of a giant and very strong opinions about politics, religion, and whether the hat Ms. Tinsley wore to church was too audacious. My aunt Marilyn asked, “Did you bake this cake, Jen?” I replied that yes I did. And then Marilyn said, “It’s very good cake,” and my aunt Mable chimed in with, “yes, quite good.” And then I woke up.
I don’t make the cream filling since I don’t like it.