(post, Kim Carlson)

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(I'm crawling through these revelations, I know.) My first year of college, my grandma sent, through the mail, an angel food birthday cake packed in popped corn. It had pink sugary frosting, and my friends and I devoured it. She sent it because I had requested angel food cake for practically every birthday for 18 years. Why change? Actually, there was another birthday cake, when I turned three, and as much as I've tried to repress it, I can't: A coconut-covered bunny cake. While I was a fan of white rabbits, I was not yet a fan of coconut. I'm sorry to say, it made me cry (and my aunt, who'd worked so hard on it, probably cried too). Eventually, though, I learned to love coconut-frosted cake and other cakes, too: carrot, filled poppyseed, pound cake, German chocolate, apple, and anything lemony. And of course, layered chocolate cakes — love those. For my 21st birthday a [/user/OpusOne friend] gave me Grandma Rose's Book of Sinfully Delicious Cakes, Cookies, Pies, Cheese Cakes, Cake Rolls & Pastries. Its French Chocolate Cake is a rich assemblage of a dozen eggs, a pound of butter, and cocoa. I've made that one many times. My daughter's birthday is coming up soon. She doesn't have an angel-food-like favorite, nor does she have any aversions. Hmmm. Time to start thinking about cake.