I love the smell of cake in kitchens,
To stand in the heat of work and feel
The air warm as baked stones.
Dough clings to wooden spoons and bowls,
The worn edges of an old recipe book.
And your hair is powdered with flour,
Your palms smooth as a washed baking-board.
Above all, I love the finish when, together
Under the calendar that's months behind,
We swap spoons from a basin of cream and lick,
My beard flecked with it, your chin white,
And between us our son yelling for a lick,
And rising all around, the smell of rich, cooked cake.
Seán Dunne (1956-1995)
My birthday cake this year came courtesy of mail order Fondant Fancies from Bettys as I was not sure if my Hubby could be with us and he usually bakes it. He was there thankfully but it was nice having Bettys do the honours.
Happy belated Birthday!
They look rather delicious
Sadly I see the author had a short life.
Ian