It's my grandmother's birthday and I have to go through the sweet torture of a Skype conference call with a very large and loud family in Albania and Italy.
Whilst I love them all, I do not love my cousin showing me this big slice of my favourite cake which I cannot have in England.
I feel like a lost puppy looking for it's cake (this puppy loves cake).
Even with the blurred image on Skype my mind clearly sees a thin layer of cake soaked in cherry liqueur, a very thick layer of sticky chocolate cream, two layers of crispy pastry and another thick layer of sweet and sticky walnut cream sprinkled with grinded walnuts and covered with cherries soaked in sorbet.
It's sweeter than sugar.
I miss my family and all, but there's nothing I miss more than pastry cake.
Nothing, as a child, could make my heart race like the anticipation of the weekend when I had gathered enough money to buy a cake that served four (well it only served me really).
Nothing raised my low blood pressure like the insane amount of sugar in that sticky cream that not anyone could handle (see, I thought about my health as well).
So yeah, I long for this amazing cake I cannot have.
I sometimes stay awake at night and cry because of so much longing. I have had to eat many other cakes to fill up even a little bit of the emptiness that pastry cake has left in me. But no other cake is as sweet.
It's killing me. This distance between us is truly horrible and unfair.
But my long-distance love will survive this hardship, and I will have my cake again when I go back for the summer.
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