Slammed down by flu and sore throat isn’t nice.


Well, anything that disrupts my appetite isn’t nice really. Wasn’t I sick just a couple of months ago?? Isn’t this like, too soon??




Anyway, during the weekend I’d decided to try baking chocolate cake. I said try because, well, to be honest, chocolate cake scares the bejeezus outta me.


Which is why I’ve never attempted making one before. I’ve made choc brownies and molten choc cakes beforehand- but never just choc cake. I know it’s really easy to make, and I know it’s the commonest cake ever to be found but I’ve never eaten one I really love.


Because it’s so common, expectations are high. Get what I mean?




As it is my tradition, whatever I baked goes out to my closest friends first. I bake often enough that my friends are guaranteed at least one type of dessert each weekend. I don’t really eat whatever I make. It’s satisfactory. Where else are you gonna get cakes laden with almonds and walnuts and cadbury and cream cheese? Yum.


But this one was so scary even the sight of The Smurfs gobbling it down in seconds couldn’t convince me. I ate the very last piece the day after, and still I wasn’t that sure wtf.


After intense drilling and interrogations, I think it deserves a page in my recipe book.




I think.