Stinky appears much improved. Q took him again to the vet yesterday and secured antibiotics and further instructions on a special diet. His adorable factor continues to rise, and he is making a valiant attempt to hit the litter box consistently. He is not eating as much as she would like in spite of numerous offerings, he continues to weigh as much as a heavy thought.
I spent part of this morning looking for one of those marvelous porcelain pitchers and basin for the upstairs, but no joy. I did stop by the small hanut across from the printers in the Medina for a couple of pieces of the best cake in Rabat to bring home. Moroccans, much like Tibetans, and Indians are not great at – cake. The fluffy cake king is a distinction held by the Americans. They make marvelous tasty fluffy layer cakes that have no compare. However this hanut makes a wonderful almost pound cake like affair, very satisfactory.
What is your favorite desert? What memory is connected to it? Who made it for you? Where is your favorite city in which to enjoy it?
For me it is the fluffy cake. When I was a child Cook would bake these grand affairs with the most outlandish decorations. She would put a plastic doll in the center and then decorate the cake as the skirt of a grand ball gown, putting the icing on as her bodice. She would create dresses for different periods of history, complete with veil, snood, or hat as needed. One year she did it all in white with the doll as a fairy princess. The wings were made of spun sugar. The one consistency was that all the dolls had red hair like me. I was allowed to sit while she made the icing and given the left over; but I was never allowed to watch her decorate the cake as she said that would take away the magic.