Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Cake Adventure Concludes


See Below for the beginning of the Story.

Finally, the cakes came out of the oven. The first cake was gone in an instant, with people toussling over how many slices they had dibs on. This was serious cake business. I commented that it was easier to get a bag of ice in Mississippi, because although it had been just a week since the hurricane hit, it is never too soon to make jokes about a national tragedy. I managed to get a slice of the second cake, and for five dollars the girl slid it into a take out container and I grabbed a fork on my way out.

Everyone else took their cake and went home, but I was too excited. I had to try my cake right now! It was just after 10PM and my slice was still warm from the oven. There was a little table with two chairs off to the side of the shop. I couldn't tell if this set-up was affiliated with the Cakeman, but I assumed it was. LaHipster and I sat down, but she reported that she had seen rats running back and forth in this area. I was too distracted by my cake to notice. One of the dudes who was in line for cake with me came over, "Do you want to be here for my first bite?" I asked.

How can I describe this cake? Smooth. Rich, but not dense. Fluffly, even. Creamy frosting, with a hint of cream cheese, but not enough to turn the corners of your mouth. "Oh yeah, " I said. "This is good cake. Mmmm. Damn, this is good. Oh my God..."

LaHipster looked at me ... well, she looked at me like, "I can't believe we're friends, but since we are friends, I am happy for you that you are enjoying that slice of cake, but maybe you could knock it off with the audio commentary." The dude wandered off into the night with his four slices. I gave LaHip a bite and not only did she not like it, she was amazed I paid five dollars for it. I think LaHip was hatched by aliens on another planet.

I began to have kind of a crazy experience. I couldn't get enough of the cake, was longing to both savor the taste and enjoy its fresh-from-the-oven warmth, but indeed, a giant rat was runnning around our table nipping at garbage in the gutter, which terrified and disguisted me. I wanted to protect the cake from the rat by getting it inside of me as soon as possible, but I also wanted the cake to never end. I was shreiking with both delight from the cake and grossosity from the rat. It was then that two men that I hadn't seen walked out of the Cakeman's shop.

Both men were half dressed in three-piece tuxedos. I pointed them out to LaHip. "Oh my God, I think that's the Cakeman over there. This is like a genuine celebrity sighting!" One of the men walked up behind LaHipster and she jumped.

"Sorry," she said. "I thought you were a rat."

"If I was, I'd be a pretty big rat," said the man in a tuxedo minus the jacket with an open dress shirt.

"Are you the Cakeman?" I blurted out.

"No," he said. "But that man over there is." And he pointed to the other man who had emerged from the Cakeman's bakery.

"Wow, " I said. "He is just as beautiful as his cakes are delicious." We have no idea why I said this except for the fact that I am a crazy person.

The man, who I would soon figure out was like a Number Two, a Cappo, to the Cakeman called to his friend, "Hey, you'd better come over here. This girl is hitting on you. And she's pretty." Later, I asked LaHipster if I imagined that part but she said no (above photo evidence to the contrary).

The Cakeman came over to our table and introduced himself to us. I told him that I had heard his story on The Next Big Thing, and I just had to come out here to try his cake and then I told him that I had also visited his website. LaHipster was behaving like a nice, normal person. The Cakeman, possibly unaccostomed to having cake groupies, went to his car and returned with his digital camera so he could show us photos of all the giant special project cakes he had been working on over the past seven weeks. The Cakeman is now a cakemaker to the stars and flies all over the country for big events and weddings and expos to do his thing. We clucked and gushed appropriately. He was very nice to us, especially since I was behaving like sick kid who was getting a chance to meet Derek Jeter before he died. LaHipster asked him if he still liked cake and he said, "not really" but I pretended not to hear.

Soon, the Cakeman tired of us, (who wouldn't?) and started giving orders to his little entourage that sprung up. The Cakeman is a very busy man. I decided to try to save the last few bites of my cake for the next day. Also, the rat was really freakin' getting to me. We said goodbye to the Cakeman and his very nice Second. It was a long walk home but the weather was nice and I so didn't care.

"Well Nance," said LaHipster, "can you believe it? You actually met the Cakeman. How do you feel?"

"This is the greatest thing that has happened to me. You know, this week. Did I tell you how good that cake was? Wait, did I really say that he was "as beautiful as his cakes are delicious"?"

"Yep. I'm afraid so."



6 comments:

Unknown said...

You know the Cakeman was flattered! I love this post, and completely understand your waiting around for cake. What else in this world is worth waiting for?

Anonymous said...

It bothers me mildly that there is nothing I can think of to drag you to as penance for my cake patience, in that I don't lust after anything edible. But when I think of something, you know for sure that your ass is coming.

Also, I will admit that while it tasted like, um, every terrible cake I've ever been forced to eat, it was a damn pretty confection.

Cupcake said...

My ass prays that there is no Annual Metro Brussel Sprout Festival.

Anonymous said...

i think you should shop this story to npr. however, before you do, can you answer some questions? 1. is the cakeman really beautiful? (i understand if you can't answer objectively) 2. why did you not hit it with the cakeman? i think he might be your soulmate.

-a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend

lebrookski said...

your cake-citement is contagious...and mind-blowing. i seriously want some cake now.

Cupcake said...

Anonymous, do you have any hook-ups at NPR because I would not know how to begin pitching a story to them?

As for if the Cakeman is really that beautiful, I guess you'll have to go to his website and judge for yourself. I think I was responding more to the way he appeared: stepping out of the shop, the light shining on his shorn head. He was wearing a tuxedo pants and shirt, what I remember as a dark blue embroidered vest, a gold brocade neck tie, loosened about the neck, and cuff links. I said, "Don't tell me you're up there baking all those cakes in a tuxedo!" He said they had dropped off a cake at a wedding and been invited to stay, but ultimately they had to get back to the shop because they were just so busy.

As for why I didn't hit it with the Cakeman, well, as I said, after we cooed at all the photos of his cakes he tired of us, probably because I was way hyped up on sugar and babbling like a moron. He mentioned a cake expo in Tulsa, LaHipster said, "We need to get you Press Credentials for that, Nance" and I shyly told the Cakeman, "I have a little cupcake blog." I'm sure he then thought to himself, oh Jesus, not another one of those...