Gateaux Mayo Marveilleux
I am a woman and therefore I am always craving chocolate, cake, biscuits and sweets. I am in a permanent state of resistance, nobly denying myself such things; I preface every nibble of confectionary with an insincere 'Oh, I shouldn't...'
That's all bullshit, of course. I don't have a very dominant sweet tooth; I don't get excited about cupcakes or chocolate boxes or find myself laden with multipacks of KitKats at the supermarket. Every now and then, I will have a stupidly strong desire for the flat white icing on a factory made Bakewell tart. Sometimes I'll make toast just to have spoonfuls of jam with it. But that's rare and I'll nearly always prefer a bowl of chips, a cheese board or heap of cream crackers dipped in Marmite over a wedge of chocolate fudge brownie cheesecake. I wonder if I'm missing out on the sexual, emotional and spiritual fulfilment the TV adverts promise. If only I could be so transported, so moved, so enriched by a single bite of a Flake or a small corner of a Galaxy bar...
Then, as I flipped idly through my collection of horrible cookery books, I found not one but two recipes for women just like me: fake cakes! Cakes that aren't actually cakes and are in fact savoury treats! That cake at the top of this post is NOT a cake. Behold: the mayo gateau!
It looks delicious, doesn't it? That whippy white frosting, the sprinkles, the moist layers within... well, wipe your chin, it's not a cake, none of that is sugar or cream, it's a MAYONNAISE COATING all over a white sandwich loaf, filled with CREAMED SARDINES.
Here's the second mayo gateau I found, photographed in glorious black and white:
Every baby shower, every 'girlie night in', every gathering of women with synchronised PMT should have one of these. So much better than a pyramid of cupcakes or a three tier cake stand loaded with petit fours. The mayo gateau is the rarest of feminine fantasies realised: a woman can eat cake without actually eating cake, and when she says 'Oh, I shouldn't...' she can, for the first time, really, really mean it.
That's all bullshit, of course. I don't have a very dominant sweet tooth; I don't get excited about cupcakes or chocolate boxes or find myself laden with multipacks of KitKats at the supermarket. Every now and then, I will have a stupidly strong desire for the flat white icing on a factory made Bakewell tart. Sometimes I'll make toast just to have spoonfuls of jam with it. But that's rare and I'll nearly always prefer a bowl of chips, a cheese board or heap of cream crackers dipped in Marmite over a wedge of chocolate fudge brownie cheesecake. I wonder if I'm missing out on the sexual, emotional and spiritual fulfilment the TV adverts promise. If only I could be so transported, so moved, so enriched by a single bite of a Flake or a small corner of a Galaxy bar...
Then, as I flipped idly through my collection of horrible cookery books, I found not one but two recipes for women just like me: fake cakes! Cakes that aren't actually cakes and are in fact savoury treats! That cake at the top of this post is NOT a cake. Behold: the mayo gateau!
It looks delicious, doesn't it? That whippy white frosting, the sprinkles, the moist layers within... well, wipe your chin, it's not a cake, none of that is sugar or cream, it's a MAYONNAISE COATING all over a white sandwich loaf, filled with CREAMED SARDINES.
Here's the second mayo gateau I found, photographed in glorious black and white:
Every baby shower, every 'girlie night in', every gathering of women with synchronised PMT should have one of these. So much better than a pyramid of cupcakes or a three tier cake stand loaded with petit fours. The mayo gateau is the rarest of feminine fantasies realised: a woman can eat cake without actually eating cake, and when she says 'Oh, I shouldn't...' she can, for the first time, really, really mean it.
No comments:
Post a Comment