Mood:
hungryTopic: "Cake in the Rain"(3)
A noble lady died today, just one week from her 95th birthday. Frodo grieves not, however, simply because her memories were long ago stolen from her, and her once regal bearing had been lost to time. Alma, sister of Frodo's father, and last of her siblings, leaves a legacy of two daughters and innumerable grandchildren. For most, such an inheritance would be both both enviable and sufficient for Middle Earth. Frodo however will mark her passing and dub her as he will always remember her. She was Alma, Queen of Caramel Cake.
No pillow was as soft as the white cake which blossomed from the bottom of that pan. The creamy caramel color covering that which could be snowfall beneath, carried an aroma which, for want of a more descriptive word, seduced the salivary glands. A heaping helping of hospitality, served with a glass of whole milk, around a 50's Era kitchen table is a picture that even Norman Rockwell could not capture. Only in the eye that is encapsulated in Frodo's mind will there always be a work of art as fine as a Lladro ceramic, of Alma, and her heavenly creation.
There will be other Caramel Cakes in Frodo's future, of that he is sure. This night though, Frodo likes to believe that his Dad will be visiting with his Sister, and that he is enjoying time with the Queen of Caramel Cake, and sampling her greatest product. What, pray tell, could Heaven have been like without Caramel Cake?
