Sweet Tooth

Aleishall Girard Maxon

The term “sweet tooth” falls far short of truly describing my relationship to sugar. And as I have not found an adequate term to replace it, let’s just say that I like it… a lot.

So you can imagine that beyond the presents and the party, getting dressed up and having a nice dinner, the thing that I look forward to the most on my birthday is the cake—That beautiful specimen of culinary genius that combines such mundane ingredients as flour, butter, eggs and of course sugar into a concoction that can only be described as divine. It can come in so many varied shapes, flavors and sizes. There was a time when all I wanted were ice cream cakes, those dense cold slabs of vanilla flavored bread packed in tightly around the layer of rich, creamy mint chocolate chip, a thin coating of frozen frosting seemed like the ultimate way to celebrate another year of life gone by. Then there was the Midnight Chocolate Layer Cake phase that lasted a good two or three years. My mother perfected this confection based on a recipe from the closest thing Santa Fe, NM had to a local diner, The Zia Café. Baking at 7000 feet can be a challenge, often leaving you with a dry crumbly version of the original baked good you set out to make, but my mother got this one down to the tee—exquisitely semi-sweet and only to be improved by a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top.

So when Katie and I started planning my twenty-fourth this year you can imagine our focus went straight to the end of the meal. What kind of cake should we have? Katie had the most fantastic idea. As we reunited one month to the day after she had married Billy Joel in a fabulous Long Island setting at sunset, I missed out on not only the wedding but most importantly the wedding cake. I was so impressed to learn that for her wedding cake Katie had opted out of a traditional (and might I add, boring) white version, for a decadently darker alternative. The baked layers were almond with one layer of apricot filling, one of hazelnut and then a chocolate butter cream frosting—this is not a confection for the dietarily concerned citizen. I swooned over the pictures for months wishing that I could have been there to taste it. Instead of waiting a whole year (the famous dessert artist Sylvia Weinstock sends her customers a mini version of their cake for their one year anniversary, claiming that to freeze a piece doesn’t do justice to the original) Katie decided to order a smaller version for my party. As Katie has a hard time keeping surprises a secret, she told me of her plan well in advance of the party so I had several weeks to anticipate and dream about the flavors. I even had the pleasure of accompanying Katie to Sylvia Weinstock’s office to pick up the cake on the day of the party. Mrs. Weinstock is a petite woman but don’t let that fool you, her largest creation towered a staggering twenty feet high, she had to place the last layers on with the help of ladders and a special crane. She is a feisty, classic New Yorker with passion, drive and a distinctive pair of black, circular eyeglasses that she makes in miniature and places on every cake she produces as her signature.

Needless to say getting through our dinner was painful, despite the delicious menu we had concocted, because I knew that the cake was waiting for me with its impeccably crafted sugar flowers on top. Finally the time came. And while Bill lead “Happy Birthday” on the piano Katie brought forward the coveted confection with candles ablaze. I blew out the flames promptly (though not before securing a well thought out wish) and we cut and served in record time.