Of Good Friends and Sugar

Each year, my generous New Orleans friends the Joneses, whose three daughters I once taught, send me two generous gifts: a smoked turkey at Christmas and a king cake at Mardi Gras. The sugar blast arrived today, and my first slice (second bite) offered up the biggest baby -- butt first -- I have ever seen. 

I commend the baker for staving off unintended choking and lawsuits, not just by the warning on the package, but by the size of this fat baby. No mistaking this one for a crunchy bit of cake.

I don't do Mardi Gras. (I didn't do it when I lived in New Orleans for more than 20 years, unless one counts completing taxes and trimming the hedge on Fat Tuesday as "doing Mardi Gras.") But I sure do king cake . . . and I celebrate good friends!

Mardi Gras Comes to the Mountain

Sometimes, FedEx delivers an unexpected, delightful gift. Witness this Mardi Gras queen cake by Antoine's Famous Cakes in Gretna on the West Bank.The parents of three former McGehee girls send me one each year as a gift from his law firm. I never expect the cake, and I am always so pleased when I get one that I usually eat the whole thing within a few days. Occasionally, I share pieces with friends, but I fear that I eat the lion's share myself.In New Orleans, a faculty member would bring one at the beginning of the season and leave it next to the coffee pot. Whoever cut a piece holding the baby had to bring the next cake. This pattern continued right through the end of the season. Fattening and sticky sweet and totally unnecessary, the king cake is as much a necessary part of Mardi Gras as beads and parades and costumes.

Thanks to my NOLA friends for throwing me something!