I'm very pleased to announce that I had cake for breakfast today.
It was a cinnamon apple cake that my sister baked over the weekend, with this moist bread quality to it that made it seem OK to wrap up and bring to work on a Monday morning, and yet the sweet layer of sugar over the top reminded me that yes, this is a piece of cake that you're eating with your hands at your desk on a Monday morning.
I've had cookies for breakfast before and always felt a little guilty for it, ashamed almost. Like someone would pass by and think less of me because I couldn't pack something healthier for breakfast -- a bagel, perhaps, or a hard-boiled egg. But today, I was proud to eat cake, and wouldn't it be nice if every Monday began with cake?
The strange thing about it all is that I had this cake for breakfast on Sunday and didn't enjoy it nearly as much as I did on Monday. I even told my sister, after those first few bites, that it was good cake and I'd eat it again, but I wouldn't beg her to make it. And then today, after the first few bites, I immediately emailed her and wrote that I changed my mind. Please make this again.
Even now, my stomach grumbling for a snack of some sort and a bag of chips sitting eagerly in the pantry, I'm craving that cake. And for those of you who know me at all, you know that I never choose cake over potato chips. What is happening to me?
Tastes just change as we get older, I suppose. At 25 years old, I've finally developed a sweet tooth. It's kind of like my newly discovered love for all things fall. Sooner or late, we just have to give in. And it just so happens that this very dessert is so very fall.
Recipe found here.