Sunday, December 2, 2012

Cement (or Cheesecake)?

Cheesecake.  It sounds good enough, two of my favorite things combined into one.  Cheese and cake.  But, there’s nothing good about it! It’s a pale brick, mixed up with some sugar, vanilla, maybe a few eggs, barely baked then flapped on a plate with a cherry on top and called ‘dessert’.  It’s disgusting.  It has the density of a meteorite.   

Cake is a wonderful thing, when it is baked thoroughly.  It is pure happiness on a fork; fluffy and sweet, evoking memories of happy celebrations.  Cake should be light and fun, with sugary icing and sprinkles, not scraped on a plate like a trowel full of mortar.  A proper cake is a party.  A proper cake marks a special occasion and brings a smile to everyone’s faces.  A proper cake is happy.  Cheesecake is not happy.  
I imagine that people who consume cheesecake do so in private occasionally, eating it slowly while in their pajamas, as if it were some unspeakable secret indulgence.  When a friend orders cheesecake from a menu, they usually get a gleam in their eye as if they are just about to commit a sin.  When they place their order, the waiter or waitress will repeat their choice “Ah, the cheesecake, excellent choice” while nodding their head approvingly.  It's as if “I’ll have the cheesecake,” was the password to some secret club.  If I decide to order an ice cream, my choice is never repeated to me nor met with such excited approval from the wait staff.
Cheesecake is obnoxious; it is the offensive joke of dessert. 

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