If your weekend doesn’t equal cake, I am sad for you. Cake always features in my weekend plans which might explain why I am so fat big boned. A weekend without a new recipe, or even an old faithful seems wrong. A weekend without stocking up on flour and sugar – wrong. A weekend without THAT scent wafting from the kitchen – wrong. And a weekend without that first slice of still warm cake – is wronger than a wrong thing from the island of wrongland.
My friend is on her way over, we’re making plans, plans for baking. Is there anything more soothing than chattering with a friend as you cream sugar and butter, as you sift flour, as you beat an egg? Catching up on the gossip as you pour a smooth, cakey mixture into a tin. Sipping on tea whilst the oven does it’s magic and makes the sponge spring up.
Mr Thrifty is off out playing some kind of stupid, yet dangerous sport whilst us women folk stay at home in the warm to deal with the business of cake. Sometimes I love a weekend full of plans and sometimes I love a weekend that has no more plans than CAKE.
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