CAKE!!!!

So.... cakes.

 

Yes cakes, not just because it’s my birthday, which gives me the right to be eating it at 8:30am while compiling a ‘meaningful’ blog post to make up for the last 3 dry months on this page. But truthfully, cake is an essential part of cultures around the world, celebrating all occasions in ranging flavors to satisfyingly comfort every sweet tooth and emotion. Plus, who could say no to a slice of butter and sugar in sponge-form, garbed in orange zest cream cheese frosting?

Good, now I have the attention of your clammy tongues salivating for glucosic goodies. Let’s examine the cake traditions of France, where boulangeries and patisseries equate the American Walgreens by claiming every street corner. If each morning is a chocolate croissant for a ‘mmm-mmm’ buttery breakfast, one can’t even begin to fathom how heavenly an actual ‘dessert’ would be. And for the most part, I’ll admit, they do not disappoint. Staying on topic, here’s a mini bibliography of some of the cakes I’ve had the palatable pleasure of tasting this past month:

1.     Bûche de Noël

What it means: Christmas log  

What it looks like: Basically a log cake that looks very much like a log, the cheaper ones a turd, sprinkled with powdered sugar and random plastic evergreens.  Cut it open to find creamy custard and sponge cake in swirls of psychedelic love. 
What it tastes like: AWESOME.

Tradition: You eat it on Christmas. Duh.
Thoughts: Don’t be disappointed by the puniness of these sticks… with all that cream and butter, one slice’ll get your heart pumpin’.
2.     Galette des Rois

What it means: Cake of Kings

What it looks like: Kind of like a big ass flaky omelette. With crusty white almond paste inside.
What it taste like: Wayyy better than that description. 
Tradition: To celebrate King’s Day, January 6^th. Somewhere inside this bad boy is a little feve, or figurine, and who ever is lucky enough to break their teeth biting it gets to wear a BK crown for the day.
Thoughts: I got the crown this year. Well worth the toothache.
3.      Couronne Briochée 
What it means: Crown bread thingy
What it looks like: A donut on steroids, decorated with fruit-cake tackiness.
What it tastes like: A donut on steroids.
Tradition: Also for Kings Day. Basically, the inventor of the cake above copyrighted the cooler name, so to compete, the dude from this bakery decided to make his look like a crown.
Thoughts: where’s the cream filling?

French cakes are, in essence, three things: 1. Decorative elements of religious or traditional celebrations; 2. Rich, but not overly sweet, with more or less natural flavors and simplistic decorations; 3. Filled with butter.

So enough with the Gordon Ramsay commentary… what’s the point of all this cake talk? Well, as satiating as these francophone delicacies might be, there still comes a day in every person’s living abroad experience where one reaches a deep revelation: where the hell is my red velvet cake?!

If you think sincerely about it, (which I do), my American favorite goes against everything French: 1) It’s anything but natural, obnoxiously fire-engine red with the main ingredients being shortening and buttermilk; 2) It’s excessive, a minimum of 3 layers glued together by thick cream cheese frosting to further glaze the already sugar infused-monster; and 3) It’s 100% American, featured on every food network show, in every trendy cupcake salon, and in many of my family photos from college, where one simple slice brought to my dorm room could magically disintegrate all the stress from midterm exams. I guess in a way, what makes a cake so great is not just the taste, but rather the occasion to share it with others. If I were to be sentimental about it (which I am), cake is about the celebratory experience as a whole, instead of the sum of its parts (which, if added up, equals too many hours at the gym).  

So, in respect to both new favorites and old time classics, and in honor of my 23^rd anniversary of birth, I’ve decided to indulge in both: a briochée for breakfast, homemade velvet for tonight, and maybe, upon my afternoon stroll past the corner patisserie, another sugary surprise. Just because it’s my birthday.