I think there’s a gene that is passed down through the females in my family that makes us lose our sanity when we encounter sweets.  I know that many women like sweets and chocolate, but this is extreme.  I have been known to go into a fugue state over Snicker’s pie.

Grandma tolerates dinner courses only to get to the most important part of the meal: pie, cake, cookies, ice cream.  She often smacks my dupa and crows, “You’re like your grandma, you like your sweets, eh?”

Yes, evil woman!  And it’s your fault!  You and your amazing buttery pie crusts and scrumptious molasses cookies!  And the worst sin is that you passed your unscrupulous skills in the kitchen combined with an insatiable desire for anything with sugar, butter and eggs down to your daughters and granddaughters!

So here I sit, at the mercy of my cravings and culinary skills.

My mother was incredible at baking, candy making, and all things sweet.  There was ALWAYS room for dessert at our house.  In fact, if my mom wanted us to eat a particularly adventurous dish for dinner, she made sure to create something extravagant for dessert.  Her rule was that we couldn’t eat dessert until we ate dinner.  I choked down duck’s blood soup once just to enjoy a few bites of her lemon meringue pie.

My first experience with birthday cake…not much has changed.