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2 cakes reviews clarifying my intentions

Tiramisu

Tiramisu is for fancy people. She wanted to try the one from Whole Foods as her Birthday cake. We never have cake, that's how acetic we are. A glossy cylinder with some cacao powder and sprinkled nibs throned on the table. The ingredients list on the box was massive, my wife told me not to read it. I love it when the label « made with genetically engineered ingredients » - it always makes me think of cyborgs, another proof of my subconscious super intelligence.

The cream layer was way too thick and the mascarpone was probably dosed with a shovel. The foamy sponge cake and coffee liquor inside were lovely. It took us 3 meals to finish it. This guy (cake is male, at least it is a masculine term in French) gets a 5/10 from someone who couldn't remember the last time he had tiramisu.

When the grandparents offered a second round 2 days later – we said no.

Chantilly cake

A Classic, well done. Less exotic, and probably easier to make. Cream, cake, and berries were all in expected and reasonable proportions. It did the job but I will remember it as « a cake ». This made me probe the well-known promise/delivery framework. The tiramisu clearly overpromised and underdelivered but this one didn't promise much and got the job done. I want to be this cake.

(5 days later)

I started to write about the cakes last week and was ready to delete this note as it was going nowhere. Yes, delete, not archive. Archiving is clinging, contributing to the massive cloud of junk hovering over our heads. I usually do some note pruning on my morning walks. It's a crucial moment when my emotional tank allows me to crush what my ego would clench after 3 pm.

Today's loop includes saying hi to a Buddha statue, picking up apples, and spotting kayaks. I'm blabbing with my kiddo, bathing in the glorious coastal morning golden mist. Staring at the mountains in the distance knowing I will spend the day mostly indoors depresses me. I pull my phone up to avoid eye contact with dog owners doing the poop scoop bend.

Checking emails and reading a post or two get me thinking about what am I expecting out of taking notes, and publishing stuff. Is it yet another manifestation of my ego?

As the beginning of this post attests, I’m embracing (trying to) humor. Mainly to tone down the design-related thoughts and general remote work doom and gloom. I'm finding some comedic relief in writing silly stories. That keeps my creative flame going while my kid and job are trying to blow that candle really hard at times. I refuse the term «personal essay» which sounds remarkably pretentious considering the effort and intention I put into this. My words are sloppy and the anecdotes are perhaps too odd. I do it for myself. But hey, if that makes someone smile, I get bonus points.

I like the humanity of personal websites. It's a nice feeling to empathize with a stranger. Online and offline. It's much easier online for an awkward introvert like me.

In the vein of Ghandi's statement: My life is my message. At the moment, mine is a loose stream of consciousness, a mix of dad micro adventures and zen aspirations. I seek presence, which starts and ends with the body. Raising a child and eating cake is, from my current understanding, the stuff of life that’ll get me closer to that, and thus worth sharing.

← Index / Published on 2024-09-11