Pets: Family Member or Family Meal?

Something I've noticed among European adults who arrived on 'cake' shores as children is a profound desire for pets. There is a yearning to love, nurture and raise an animal, but often I question the motives based on the values bred into them as children by their presents. You see 'cake' have a tendency to incorporate animals into something other than a meal. 'Cake' children are often given a pet to incorporate into the family when their parents saddle said child with the responsibility of a small rodent or single orange fish which will no doubt perish under their unobservant eyes. It is really of no consequence on account that these orphaned animals are relatively cheap and replacements are easily found at the local mall with minimal effort. Little 'cakes' are usually so disinterested after the first day or two that replacement gerbils and/or goldfish are substituted without notice which is good because 'cake' kids are usually unreasonably loud with their crying despite not knowing the name of their recently deceased pet. Even still, little 'cakers' love those first few moments with a pet and it represents a passage of sorts into pre-adulthood. 'Cake' parents recognize this and it also acts as a pre-planned 'no' for larger pets in the foreseeable future. All the parent has to do is reference the aforementioned fish or rodent, now flushed down the toilet, and 'cake' junior has no leg to stand on, though it builds a strong foundation and eventual respect for animals.

This is where Euro parents should take note. Their own children will never fully integrate into 'cake' society if pets continue to move beyond family members and into the realm of shared family meals.

Look back on your childhood Euro chums and see the difference between 'cake' life and that which your parents had you live.

There should be no confusion as to which childhood memory belongs to who. On the left we have 'cake' pseudo-celebrity Sharon Lewis in her family orientated show starring none other than a cute and cuddly lamb, appropriately named Lamb Chop. On the right we have what European parents turn cute and cuddly lambs into. Yes, 'cake' children are shown that animals are our friends and can be part of our TV room family, rather than something to be enjoyed with a delicious mint jelly.

What about that all important first pet? Well, the story doesn't get any better as you'll see below.

Clearly, the European parent is trying to stamp out any chance of integration by stamping out that first pet right of passage. How does a new child in the land of 'cake' relate to that first pet experience his or her native 'cake' friends experience if papa has filleted Scuba Steve, the goldfish?

Unfortunately the carnage doesn't end there. Not only are Euro kids ostracized from their 'cake' friends, but papa isn't satisfied until junior is devouring another sacred animal and segregated from other foreign children, namely the Indian children. How does papa manage this diabolical task? Behold, India's sacred cow no more!

Yes, it has been referenced before, but now you see the insatiable appetite for righteous, sacred animals. Whether it is a childhood friend on TV; a live friend in an aquarium to be tended to for a few minutes before losing interest in and rejoining your TV friend; a sacred animal to be revered, it matters not. Mama and papa see not a family member, but a family meal.

There isn't enough Internet to post all the pets made into creative meals, but the last example is a friend, a form of therapy for autistic children, an entertainer, and, according to some Europeans, a damn fine sausage. I am talking about … no, see for yourself …

Damn you Nicolas Sarkozy! Damn you and your insatiable appetite for all things mammal! Eat the mustard sandwich will you, and leave the children's My Little Pony alone! When a little girl asks for a pony for her birthday, she wants to enjoy the 'cake' dream all little female 'cakes' share, to graduate from toy plastic ponies to the real thing. She doesn't want a sausage. Sorry there are no ponies left Lucija … papa was hungry.

My name is Coco and I'm calling the OSPCA!

LOL What?

In order to reach a wider audience Cake Defined has opted to sacrifice a portion (read: all) artistic integrity and will attempt to incorporate new, mainstream trends in the form of LOL cats. Yes, LOL cats. What's a LOL cat you ask? Well, it is hard to explain since neither cats, nor cheeseburgers exist in Europe, but the LOL cat is much like a small European child, discovering new wants and desires in the land of 'cake.' Let us look at one of the original LOL cats and draw the similarities so that my friends of Euro-centric origins can understand.

First and foremost we are drawn to the cat's horrendous spelling and grammar. Many that are new to the land of 'cake' are not completely familiar with the language of their hosts, and nor do they have to be. The 'cake' dialect is a hard one to master. Poor grammar and pronunciation abound in Euro children, through no fault of their own, with all the "vhat's" "vhere's" and "vhy's." Here is a clear cut comparison between 'cake' and Euro when saying the exact same thing:

CAKE: Why would you perform a task in that manner? It is far more efficient when done this way.
NEWLY ARRIVED EURO FRIEND: Vhy for you do zhat? It no make a sense.

I blame non-'cake' parents with their stubborn insistence on only speaking the tongue of the old country. This clearly handicaps the integration of their children into 'cake' society by making them sound like a cat of the LOL variety rather than the functional literates they could be.

The second similarity between LOL cat and Euro kid is the desire for what would otherwise be considered absurd in their respective native environments - the cheezeburger. It is not absurd to think Euro kids would desire beef (see previous entries regarding the eating of India's sacred cows) and cheese (see previous entry referencing Euros' love of cheese … probably the same one referencing the eating of the sacred cows). Christ, the kid is no doubt lured by the promise of ham, as a HAMburger would insinuate. Pork obsession aside, there is no reasonable explanation why a Euro child would ask for a food he or she has otherwise never heard of. The same could be said for LOL cat. How does that cat know what a 'cheezeburger' is? They don't exist in cat society, well … no more than they exist in European childhoods. Should a Euro kid ask, the child is clearly mimicking what he or she overheard in a 'cake' school's cafeteria. There is no understanding of the words leaving the mouth. Should this broken English question be asked at home, rather than school, there would no doubt be repercussions for our unwitting adolescent. Mama no like the cheezeburgers.

Should that question be asked in a European kitchen and a beating NOT ensue, mama, or potentially papa, would end up becoming a LOL cat themselves with their predictable response. Behold mama Euro LOL cat and the future of Cake Defined …

I don't think any further explanation is required. Any Euro child should immediately see their mother in that picture. All the elements are there:

1. Broken 'cake' dialect.
2. Reference to the 'old contree.'
3. Typical Euro garb.
4. Denial of all things 'cake.'

My name is Coco and your parents are an inspiration for future pictures of cats.

Photo Blog #2

There is a legend in 'cake' lore that tells of a prophet that will one day come across an invention so glorious in nature that it will revolutionize the 'cake' world. The yet unknown prophet will discover this not by means of creating it him or herself, but, by finding it unheralded in another's land. I am proud today to proclaim that I believe I am that 'cake' prophet and that I have found that invention, sitting idly in the land of cruise missiles and super-sized fries. I have encountered that which will one day be capable of further unifying 'cake' families, already themselves victims of high divorce rates and severe lack of pop culture knowledge. Behold the prophecy fulfilled!

Salivate as traditional 'cake' delights abound, dispensed from a pump high above. Magical mayo, delicious ketchup and inspiring mustard come together from one awe-inspiring source. The potential for instant sandwiches has been found, ney, unleashed! At the risk of blowing your fragile Euro-centric minds I dare say you've known nothing of taste potential, what with everything resembling a pig. Here you can take what you've learned from me in this educational portal and literally put it all together. Ketchup, mustard and mayo all on one sandwich … the possibility is scary to think of, but the forbidden fruit always tastes best! Go ahead, be the Eve to my Adam. You know you want to. Don't worry, you won't be cast from the garden of 'cake,' but you may become 'cake' and find yourself ostracized from your so called Euro friends. A small price to pay for a taste of the future.

As the man who has discovered the true potential of this invention I'm not sure whether to call it a 'cake' triumvirate, a 'cake' trifecta or the holy trinity. Regardless of what you wish to call it, it is awesome and will be the unifying force that keeps 'cake' moms (or dads) out of the kitchen and in front of the television, where they should be, with the rest of the family. With more time in front of the proverbial tube 'cake' families will become a beacon to the rest of the world, an example for all to follow when it comes to family relations. Single 'cake' moms will now have convenience AND variety. What more could any child, 'cake' or otherwise, want?

My name is Coco and Euro children rejoice - you are privy to history unfolding!

The Incredible Instant Salad!

There are few foods, 'cake,' Euro, or otherwise that have the versatility of mayonnaise. 'Mayo,' as it is often referred to in 'cake' circles, is a magical food of biblical proportions - performing feats of astonishment on par with those attributed to the bible's protagonist, Mr. Jesus Christ. In fact, there is a new school of history revisionists who believe mayo may have been around in the time of Jesus. If these revisionists are correct it may reduce the amount of miracles credited to Jesus and up the amount attributed to mayo.

Mayo, like its ketchup and mustard counter-parts, is by all means an acceptable sandwich. It is a delectable combination of oil, egg and vinegar or lemon juice. Some speculate that olives provide the oil ingredient, making it a Mediterranean inspired food, but if that were true, why are there so few Euro parents who approve of the mayo sandwich. Even when straddled between a German-esque kaiser (Germanic for King), the sandwich (Fig. 1) is shunned in European circles.

Fig.1

The concession in this sandwich is both the use of a bread named after a European monarch, and the straying from 'cake's' beloved brand: Wonder. Even still, with these peaceful concessions, the mayo sandwich is struggling to make it's way onto Euro dining room tables where children yearn for something other than schnitzels. Euro kids realize mayo is much more than a delicious sandwich, though it is most certainly a delicious sandwich. None know the exact properties that give mayo it's magical abilities but it is, without question, magical.

To demonstrate let us take the example of chicken. Chicken on it's own is, at best, a passable means of subsistence. Our mutual friend, the Mexican, alludes to the redundant blandness of what 'cake' and Euro alike, enjoy on a weekly basis - chicken Thursday. What our Mexican friend has wrong is the means in which to remedy this circle of poultry tastelessness. He would have us all believe that his fellow Mexicans hold the answer in a taco kit from the ancient land known only as Olde El Paso. This isn't the first time Mexicans have offered solutions to mutual cake and Euro troubles. Look to any manufacturing industry and you'll see the Mexican's cheaper, more cost efficient labour force; Juan Valdez to motivate those still employed in the land of 'cake;' and tequila for those no longer employed as a result of the industrial Mexican peoples. Thanks Mexico, but you've done enough for us to earn my eternal gratitude. The REAL answer to chicken Thursday's is right here at home in the land of 'cake,' and it's called mayo! So take note my Mexican and Euro friends for you have been served. Not with a petty lawsuit, but the wisdom of how to properly prepare (insert food here) salad. Chicken salad, potato salad and, dare I say it, pork salad! All you lack, children from your respective 'yonders' is mayo. I shall provide a recipe you can try tonight in order to prove my claims and win your foreign-born parents' approval.

Step 1: go to mama's kitchen and procure a cooked chicken (or more likely, pork) cutlet.
Step 2: cut said cutlet (or schnitzel) in to pieces.
Step 3: add mayo. BAM! You now have chicken (or pork) salad.
Step 4: place meat-based salad between two pieces of Wonder+ white bread. Non-meat salads should be served cold, as a side, to the aforementioned meat-based salad sandwich. Non-meat salads include, but are not limited to, potato salad, macaroni salad and bread salad (a.k.a. the mayo sandwich).

Take a minute to make yourself a salad. I'll wait.

Good job my foreign friend. You're on your way to flavor on a whole new, never before imagined, level. Cake Life will soon be launching a fashion line of sorts in support of this magical, locally produced food. Figure 2 clearly demonstrates 'cake's' commitment to local, homegrown solutions.

Fig.2

My name is Coco and you've got yourself a multitude of trendy, tree-hugging, save the whales, locavore 'cake' recipes!

Spring of 2011 is upon us!

As Spring is steadily, if not painstakingly slowly, making its way into the land of 'cake,' more and more Euro parents are finding their way back to the proverbial 'old country.' They do this by way of tradition, not actually making the journey back home. No, that pilgrimage is for later in life - another topic for a later date. Having crossed the Atlantic, home is here now, in the land of 'cake.' Euro seniors, however, are taking this opportunity and coming together in a reactionary movement to keep their children Eurofied. Enter Spring, the Euro pre-harvest season. It is the season of ploughing, planting and forced child labour under the guise of 'remembering one's roots.' Euro children are always fed this line in a hopeless attempt to keep them from the inevitable assimilation into 'cake,' as if passing judgement on the 'cake's extraordinary ability to import foreign foods from exotic Florida, USA and Chile, Mexico. Yes, Spring is upon us and there is no better confirmation than looking out your window and seeing the local European mother surveying her land, planning for the season ahead. See Fig.1

Fig.1

These moms are an annual sight in the land of 'cake' whether you're in the thriving metropolis of Toronto, Ontario or rural Somewhere, Manitoba. All you have to do is look out your window and hearty Euro moms are planting crops on land not zoned for agricultural purposes and that's how you know that Spring has arrived. Behold their rustic, manual hand tools and ox-less ox carts dragged across field and front lawn alike. I can't help but admire their Luddite tendencies; the swelling pride in their unwillingness to embrace technology. One word: admirable. Who needs an easier life? Not mama. Just ask her. This is in great contrast to what 'cake' parents are doing.

'Cake' look to the consistency of year round, non-seasonal cans to produce food (Fig. 2) rather than the insect-infested, manure-soaked dirt referred to as soil. This allows 'cake' to spend their time productively sitting on patios, drinking wonderful variations of liquor-infused cocktails while pre-teen 'cake' are watching the little 'cakes' at home, thus preparing them for the inevitable teenage pregnancy 'cake' girls are inexplicably susceptible to. Euro girls are instead tending their parents' fields or remaining chaste by serving at the local convent.

Fig.2

"Look Gordie, that can is birthing a whole chicken!"


Euro life beckons many like a sultry siren, away from the over-indulgent 'cake' life of smart phones, processed foods and electricity. It doesn't make much sense to a 'cake' like myself, but to those who dare to enter Europa, they are treated to a world full of simplistic, dignified pain. Unfortunately, this doesn't help Euro girls prepare for motherhood. Who has the upper hand now? Nostrovia!

My name is Coco and I'm a closet urban farmer!

Mac & Cheese & Ketchup!

'Cake' have a history of amazing food creations that Euro children have always yearned for, but long been denied such as Kool-Aid, the artificial fruit drink; Fluff, the spreadable marshmallow; and "I can't believe it's not butter," simulated butter spread. Yes, 'cake' have long been pioneers in the delicious food industry. Yet, with all this ingenuity at hand
'cake' have always enjoyed the occasional throw back to their friends' Euro-centric heritage - a chance to kick it culturally old-school! No 'cake' dish better celebrates European fare better than Kraft Mac & Cheese with a healthy dose of Heinz Ketchup. On the surface this dish may as well be straight out of your mama's kitchen - a recipe handed down the ages. See if you can tell which of the following dishes is 'cake,' and which was perfected over many generations of family traditional dinners.

Fig. A

Fig. B

Hard to tell isn't? If you're still unsure which is which, 'A' is a rustic, out of date, overly complicated European recipe that takes way to long to prepare. 'B' on the other hand, is an ingenious, modern dish created by a 'cake' mom that, believe it or not, probably only took mere minutes to put together in a microwave, or 'magic box' as many parents of European descent refer to it.

The Similarities:
* Noodles
* Cheese
* Tomato-based 'sauce'

The differences:
* 'Cake' noodles are efficiently machine formed in this post-industrial age of progress whereas Euro noodles are painstakingly hand made by someone's Nona, potentially violating local labour laws and clearly hoping that Nona had the good sense of personal hygiene to wash her now sore, arthritic hands. 'Cake' noodles clearly let you sleep with a clear conscience. How you sleep after selfishly gorging on your mama's home cooked pasta meal(s) is beyond me. What's wrong with you?

* Europeans, and their love of cheese (and other animal byproducts) is legendary. They go to great lengths to extract what they often call "the food of their god(s)," but it doesn't come without its own set of drawbacks. To satisfy the Euro lust of solidified, formed animal milk they hook up cows, goats and Swiss citizens to pumps and suck the very life from a multitude of nipple like appendages. Siphons are typically painful, especially for the Swiss citizens who already have a fragile constitution after years of providing milk for their European country men during the time Indians were hoarding their sacred cows. 'Cake' cheese, in comparison, is made of delicious powders that did not require the enslaving of various animals and one European citizenry. No, 'cake' powdered cheese, just like aerosol and squeeze cheese, could be easily endorsed by PETA, if 'cake' actually cared enough to pursue animal-friendly certification. With a secret combination of magical ingredients no living creatures were harmed in the making of Kraft's cheese powder. Now that's cold, hard currency you can take to the ol' karma bank!

* The raison d'être in this dish, the 'cake' dish anyways, is ketchup. In some area of Euroland they use tomato sauce, but at what cost? European parents, most of which are sons and daughters of the soil, trudge around in endless fields trying to gather enough resources, under the scorching sun, to create some sort of sauce to place upon their unconscionable noodles. More slave labour from the family's elders so their children can eat without any sense of gratitude. Then again, how thankful can someone be for a dish made from illegally crafted noodles, cheese from beaten animals and sauce from arthritic grandparents? Would it not make sense to enlist the help of Heinz and their squeezable bottles full of delicious tomato-like contents with a legal limit of pigeon feces per parts million? Instant gratification in a bottle!

If you poor, deprived Euro children are still not sold, imagine this: Mac & Cheese & Ketchup & Some form of pig! In a last ditch attempt to ween you off your labour intensive, elderly abusing meals, 'cake' have upped the ante to entice you into joining your 'cake' surroundings. While the rest of your friends slaughter animals for food and discard the Indian caste equivalent of "untouchables," 'cake' offer you efficient pig meat in the form of hotdogs!

Fig. C

Delicious!

My name is Coco and your parents secretly want you to eat this stuff!

Photo Blog #1

As I journey through life it is necessary to document that which can be considered 'cake,'and subsequently post it for both your reading pleasure as well as your required education. Few things on God's green earth more accurately portray 'cake' than that which my culture make a majority of their noon hour meals with - enriched white Wonder bread, completely void of any nutritional value.

In the above photo we see both 'cake' and 'cake' culture, side-by-side in one amazingly 'cake' photograph. The first of two subjects, the 'caker' himself, is seen throwing up what might otherwise be construed as a gang sign. It is a common mistake made by those newly arrived in the land of 'cake,' and you would be wrong to think this is any sort of provocation of violence. No, this is simply one of the 'cake' identifying himself and the second subject of the photograph (the Wonder bread truck) as 'cake.' It is no different than those not from this land to brandish flags from the old country every four years if their countrymen are fortunate enough to make it to the world cup of soccer ('cake' for footy ball, or football or whatever your foreign dialect wishes to call it). It is simply pride and nothing more. Gaze upon the beautiful red letters of WONDER and the little blue '+' sign that insinuates there is more than meets the eye to Wonder's delicious white bread. But really, what more could there be? It is perfection!

My name is Coco and this has been a public service announcement.

Fact vs. Fiction - A Pig! A Pig! Everywhere a Pig!

This is not an apology in the common, everyday sense to express regret or remorse. No, this is a scholar's apology, the type that explains the reason or reasons behind a particular argument. This statement is that the European brain is hard-wired for pork. When a scholar's teachings are ever called into question, it is the responsibility of that educator to prove to his or her disciples that he or she is, in fact, an expert in his or her respective field, which in my case is 'Cake' and 'Euro-Cake' relations. In order to preserve the integrity of the lessons, past and present, herein, I am obligated to demonstrate to all students that my knowledge base is absolute. Though I have never been called to task for my statement that those of European descent are inexplicably obsessed with the swine, this entry is a pre-emptive strike at anyone thinking of questioning the lessons given on this blog.
My Euro friends' parents have interesting and creative ways in which to serve pig: schnitzel, sausage and straight up tender loins. I can't call that an obsession, rather that's just deliciousness. My concern is for the youngest of generations of Euro children here in the land of 'cake.' Diabolically, parents have past on an obsession from the old country and engrained it in their children's psyche that pig is not just a meal but also a treat - serving some form of it for more than just breakfast, lunch and dinner. There is no problem with bacon for breakfast, ham sandwiches for lunch and schnitzel for dinner aside from the obvious internal side-effects. No, the problem lies when a child is done with his or her ham sandwich and rummages through their lunch bag yearning for dessert only to be staring yet another pig in the face. Enter "Fred Ferkle!"

Even Euro candy is shaped like our barnyard friend, the pig. What hope do the spawn of newly arrived European parents have of integrating with their 'cake' hosts when they are fed pork and pseudo-pork 24/7? 'Cake,' with their infinite politeness and inclusive intentions, are thrown back as yet another serving of pig is pulled from Euro Junior's lunch satchel. Looking to help their foreign classmate out, little 'cake' is quick to offer something more appropriate such as a marshmallow candy cigarette or gum made to appear as chewing tobacco. It's no use though. The child from across the pond is already accustomed to swine and his parents' pseudo-swine treats.

Who knows? Maybe Fred Ferkel does have some form of pig in him.

My name is Coco and in moderation, I too, dig the pig!

The Condiment Myth - Part 2

Quick on the heels of debunking the 'mustard as a condiment myth,' I am forced to show the fallacies which old school parents of European origins have been perpetuating inside the minds of their children regarding the pride of Leamington, Ontario. The myth of which I speak is the very belief that ketchup is not an autonomous meal, but rather an ingredient only to be used as a condiment on the likes of some sorta meat-filled sandwich, preferably pork, and probably on whole wheat bread to boot. Open your minds, children of the swine sandwich. The truth must be found and this myth unraveled.

The first step towards liberating your taste buds and garnering your parents' highly sought after approval of ketchup sandwiches is questioning the very reasons for which they disapprove. "Mama, vhy are ve eating zeese predominantly tomatoe sauce sandwiches called 'parmiagana' instead of zhe delicious 'cake' ketchup sandwiches? Zhey are both tomatoe-based. Mama, vhy no ketchup sandwiches?" Watch for the look of horror as mama searches for an adequate answer. When she begins to talk, it's best you don't get your hopes up on receiving a satisfactory answer. In fact it's best to anticipate a swift blow to either your left or right ear. If you're exceptionally unlucky, you won't have noticed the wooden spoon mama was wielding when you questioned her culinary authority.

Mama won't admit it, but she's glad you want a ketchup sandwich. She's only resistant because she believes you're abandoning your rich heritage of … you know … 'stuff,' but really, she knows this acceptance of 'cake' deliciousness is inevitable and even desirable.

Gaze upon edible world peace with your beautiful European eyes.

The similarities between ketchup and its 'non-cake' counterparts is unbelievable. If macaroni cheese loaf was an olive branch to European migrants, ketchup sandwiches are an olive orchard to the world!

Why those of Euro descent were considered in the creation of the ketchup sandwich …

In a little known part of the Euroland Union is a place often referred to as 'Italy.' In this dark and mysterious land, everything, including pork and pasta, is slathered in a tomato-based sauce called "tomato sauce." It may as well be macaroni and cheese loaf with ketchup, but instead of enjoying that potential concoction they separate everything and call it "spaghetti and meatballs with a side of garlic bread." They complicate the meal by not 'loafing' it and not serving it on Wonder white. In an attempt to bridge the divide, those from the lands of the papacy also eat pollo parmiagana sandwiches - chicken, cheese and the Euro ketchup substitute earlier referred to as 'tomato sauce.' The resistance comes, in all likelihood, when we asked our Euro-centric friends to lose the chicken and/or pork. Otherwise they're already eating ketchup sandwiches. Explain it as such to your parents from the motherland and you may find yourself eating like a 'cake' this holiday season. Consider it your contribution to Italo-'Cake' relations!

Nona thanks you!

Why those of Indian (and the surrounding area) descent were considered in the creation of the ketchup sandwich …

As was mentioned in a previous entry, Indians hold sacred their cows, opting for a simple vegetarian lifestyle/diet/whatever. Euro-Indian relations have historically been strained because Europeans love eating cheese and India's sacred cows. Enter the 'cake' and his or her ketchup sandwich. The ketchup sandwich appeases the Indian desire to be vegetarian or 'meat-free' as it's known outside the realm of India. It is also a meal which the sacred cows can enjoy. Imagine the joy of sharing one's lunch; a lunch probably slaved over for weeks to afford, with a docile, dim-witted, sacred animal devoid of rational thought. Yeah, I don't get it either, but someone might like it and the ketchup sandwich makes that day dream a possible reality. I don't judge, and neither should you. With it's vegetarian nature as well as affordability, the ketchup sandwich is an Indian's dream come true. Statistics show that since the inception of the ketchup sandwich, Indian migration patterns have shifted towards the land of 'cake,' versus the previously preferred destination of somewhere else in India.

Indian Nona thanks you!

My name is Coco and nonas of the world can now rejoice!

The Condiment Myth - Part 1

One of the first myths perpetuated by freshly arrived European migrants, to their offspring, is that mustard is simply a condiment, not something to be enjoyed as a stand alone meal. At first glance it is hard to understand why Euro parents would be so shrill, duping their ignorant and impressionable children. It came to me when I really wanted to use the word mustard in the title of this blog entry, but I wasn't sure if the old school Euro friends following the blog (the ones in need of these free educational webinars) would run from their computer, screaming in a panic something about 'ze Germans.' You see, this is an identifiable hang-up Euros have with mustard - it is synonymous with a traumatic Oktoberfest experience where they were no doubt gorging themselves upon pork sausages (see previous blog entry about Euros and their love of pork) and 'ze Germans' contaminated this free-for-all of sausages with mustard and sauerkraut. Subsequently, 'ze Germans' were called 'krauts' by their fellow European brethren, and in retaliation for this name calling we were all given WW1 and the dreaded mustard gas.*

I digress. Mustard in the land of 'cake,' unlike the rest of Europa, was not criminalized following the great war. In fact, mustard flourished in the land of 'cake,' becoming a splendid meal in its own right. It was celebratory in nature, but soon became a breakfast staple. No longer was mustard dependent upon other sandwich 'fillers,' no, mustard was in a league of its own and 'cake' loved it 'cause 'cake' love victory!

Pop quiz #1: what does the below picture depict?

If you said "German weapon of mass destruction from the early 20th century," you really need to get with the times. Furthermore, you need to subscribe to this blog and pay close attention. If you said "beginning of a prosciutto sandwich," you're wrong again and you seriously need to get your Euroland, pork-obsessed mind off the pig. The correct answer is that it is an open-faced mustard sandwich. The mustard sandwich is a renowned 'cake' breakfast made of but two simple ingredients: white bread and mustard. This is almost identical to the ketchup sandwich which is more of a 'cake' luncheon or dinner whereby the mustard is substituted with ketchup. Ketchup sandwiches will be covered in part 2 of the condiment myth.

Pop quiz #2: what does the below picture depict?

If you said "German weapon of mass destruction from the early 20th century," you're bordering on the designation of 'lost cause,' and may never fully integrate into 'cake' society. If you said "open-faced mustard sandwich" you're wrong again. Where has it ever been written that 'cake' eat anything other than white bread? The above is clearly the beginning of some Euro-inspired pork-type sandwich on whole wheat bread that will include some foreign looking yellow/grey stuff as a condiment. You should have noted by now that French's mustard, the only mustard worthy of 'cake,' is fluorescent yellow. All other mustards aren't really mustards at all, but rather concoctions created by foreigners to help their children fit in along side 'cake' children while they eat delicious mustard sandwiches. The only acceptable variation of the mustard sandwich is to toast the white bread before applying the mustard. This is known in 'cake' circles as the 'toasted mustard sandwich on white.'

My name is Coco and this has been part 1 of 2.

* When mustard gas was used by 'ze Germans' at the battle of Ypres, it is rumored that 'Cake' troops stationed at their position of the trench used white bread, previously slated for Fluffernutter sandwiches, as gas masks. When 'ze Germans' were sent back scared after intense fighting, 'Cake' troops pulled off their make shift masks and it was roughly time for brunch. So began the first ever open-faced mustard sandwiches.

Euro-inspired Cake

This next featured delicacy of the 'cake' culture is one that is not solely 'cake,' but one that was inspired by our Euro brothers and sisters, though they'd deny it vehemently. It was created with the intent to bridge our differences, to help alleviate the great divide between Euro folk and their current 'cake' hosts here in the land of 'cake.' Unfortunately, that has not happened. What has resulted is the further division of our cultures with the 'Euros' thrown back in absolute disgust at 'cake' ingenuity. Rather than see the olive branch of inclusion, parents from their respective motherlands looked down upon what they considered an abomination of edible goodness. They then passed their disdain for this specific 'cake' creation on to their children, poisoning the relationship of little 'cakes' and Euro kids in elementary school lunch rooms across the country. It was to be a divisive force, this food, rather than the great uniter it was intended to be. That 'cake' creation I refer to is none other than macaroni cheese loaf. Stay with me foreign friends, this is where we become 'one.'

I suppose the name "macaroni and cheese loaf" leaves much to be desired, but the tastes and textures within said loaf does not. If one looks at the majestic packaging of the loaf, it screams "Euro treat!" Let us break it down into categories of goodness in terms the children of Europe will understand.

1. Pork: Europeans love their schnitzels, especially those of the reputed pork variety. They eat it like candy, having it for dessert or sneaking it into European movie theaters so they don't have to pay inflated theatre prices for it. In the land of 'cake' the theaters don't sell schnitzels, so they sneak it in as a tribute to the home country. This is why those of European origins should love the loaf. The loaf that harbors the macaroni and cheese is primarily pork, yes, the very meat Euro dreams are made of.

2. Macaroni: This needs very little explanation because macaroni is a pasta and pasta is one of the national foods of Europe. It is as sacred in Euroland as cows are in India - except Europeans eat pasta and then eat India's cows. There is no limit to which Europe's offspring will go to in order to sink their teeth into pasta and other people's sacred animals.

3. Cheese: Europeans love cheese so much they named an entire region in homage of this delicious dairy byproduct. Perhaps you've heard of Swissland. The Euro union flag is blue, aptly chosen after their love of blue cheese, which isn't actually blue, but there is no colour called 'cheddar,' though if there was you can be sure the flag would have been that colour. If you look at any European deli / store, there is always cheese in the picture. Prove that statement wrong.

So a conundrum exists - why do those of Euro descent not love a food that includes all three of their favorite foods? Why not let their children experience all the foods Euros love in one single mouthful? Is it because the parents themselves weren't able to stuff their faces with all three simultaneously when they were young? Jealousy is the only reason Euro parents would have scared their kids from this 'cake' enigma known as macaroni cheese loaf. They say it will be disgusting as they spoon shovel haggis down their children's collective throats.

Suffer no more for your parent's jealousy! Enjoy the olive branch 'cake' have extended in the form of an all-inclusive sandwich meat in which Euro taste-buds can be treated to all their favorite delicacies in a singular, euphoric bite!

My name is Coco and 'cake' food is world peace waiting to happen!

Marshmallows, They're For Breakfast!

One thing I find that my friends of foreign ancestry have little knowledge about are the multitude of wonderful 'cake' delicacies. Sure, they like to introduce their own tastes from lands far away to 'cakers,' even trying foods of other foreign cultures firmly established here in the land of 'cake,' but what of 'cake' dishes? How is it those of European descent amorously enjoy an empanada or tiki masala while remaining blissfully ignorant to one of 'cakes' finest creations - "Fluff," the spreadable marshmallow? I try to hide my contempt for their parents who have obviously deprived my friends of 'cake' culture, choosing to keep them in a Euro-centric bubble that happens to willfully accept South American as well as Asian and Middle Eastern culture … but not 'cake' culture.

Regardless, it is my duty as both 'cake' and a friend to showcase Fluff in all it's gooey goodness. It is a wonder food, though so simple in concept. Perhaps there is a misconception in the perceived complexity of the Fluff that scares newly minted Canadians from Fluff. They fear the unknown, choosing to deprive their children rather than be caught flat-footed when one asks, "what is it Papa?" The simple answer is that "it is Fluff, the spreadable goodness." No child needs anything further as their concentration, once on their parent's answer, is now lost in the Fluff's deliciousness!

Now Fluff is not a single purpose 'cake' delicacy. It is wonderful on it's own AND as an integral ingredient in parts of other fine 'cake' foods. Aside from the obvious application of Fluff to delicious s'mores, Fluff is key to the a 'cake' staple - the Fluffernutter sandwich. So intrinsic is the Fluffernutter to being 'cake,' I have no choice but to demonstrate how you can make your own sandwich and indulge in the the once forbidden pleasure your anti-'cake' parents would not allow you to succumb to.

1. Take two pieces of white bread (I can't stress enough, the importance of the bread being white) out of the bag marked WONDER.
2. Coat one side of the first piece of bread with peanut butter, preferably Kraft.
3. Coat one side of the second piece of bread with Fluff.
4. Put the pieces of bread together with the plain sides facing outward. You want the peanut butter and Fluff to meld together. That's where the magic happens. You'll know.

I trust you will share this recipe with your non-cake friends, welcoming them on this, your journey of learning. Don't be afraid to experiment with other white breads. For a more familiar European flair, you can bastardize the above recipe and use D'Italiano thick cut white bread. Perhaps it will help you ease into 'cake' rather than just diving in. You're new to this. It's okay to be scared. Just know that 'cake' is for everyone, even you, despite what your parents told you as a child.

My name is Coco and I scream, you scream, we all scream for 'cake!'

Cake Manifesto

A spectre is haunting Europeans in Canada - the spectre of 'cake.' All the powers of old Europe, or those at least currently re-settled in Canada, have entered into an unholy alliance to exorcise this spectre: Pope and Russian president (no Tsar anymore), Metternich and Guizot (WTF is a Guizot?), French radicals (other than those in Quebec) and German police-spies (not sure about the police-spies, but Germans for sure).

Where is the hero in opposition that has not been decried as 'cake' by his opponents from Euroland? Where is the opposition that has not hurled back the branding reproach of 'cake,' against the more culturally refined European arrivals as well as their other worldly, cultured immigrant friends?

Two things result from this fact:
1. 'Cake' is already acknowledged by all Europeans residing in Canada to be itself a power.
2. It is high time that 'Cake' should openly, in the face of all their newly arrived friends, publish their views, their delicacies, their tendencies and meet this nursery tale of 'cake' with a manifesto of the lifestyle itself.

To this end, 'cakers' of various provincial ties (with the possible exceptions of Quebec and Nunavut who are pretty resistant to cake culture) have assembled on the internet and sketched the following blog, to be published in English … and nothing else on account of the writer being unilingual and only able communicate in the English language - the official language of cake.

My name is Coco and I'm bringing 'cake' to the masses!