I don't like brownies. Never have. They're too rich with chocolate (not a huge chocolate fan, like sour candy more...) and slightly resemble poop, yet I continue eating 'em every time someone gives me a chance. Call me unbiased. I also am not a huge fan of cupcakes. Sure, they look cute and enticing and who can resist the well adorned icing and picture perfect image of a mini-cupcake you can just pop into your mouth in one tiny bite? I'm not sure what it is but my palate has never fully enjoyed the sweetness of a cupcake. Upon eating one, I usually have an "oh too sweet" grumbling in my stomach and immediate regret for eating the darn sweet thing. But bring me a cupcake, and you would never know because I will still gladly eat it without hesitation and will in fact oodle over how adorable it is as I'm devouring it. This is part of my "eat everything given to you" or avoidance of being pian shi Chinese upbringing. And I've concluded the other part is because of the conditioning "Chinese cake" and Chinese dessert - normally orange slices or watermelon, has given me all whilst growing up.
What's Chinese cake you ask? Why, it's glorious! First, it's not that sweet. Second, it almost always has fruit in between layers with a very light soft cream (not icing, but creamy cream). My favorite is a soft angel sponge cake, except it's much lighter and in fact, feels like you're eating air. No, not tasteless free open space air. But very decadent, coveted and flavorful air that just glimmers your tongue with a speck of sweeetness that melts on your tongue, having you wanting more. In fact, it's probably calorie free! .... maybe not, but maybe?....?
No matter what affinity I have for what type of sweets, I eat 'em all and my dear friends know this as they came over to celebrate my 29th birthday with Andy, Jordan and me last night. Julia, who is still working a lot with all her tax deadlines, came between one client and her way back to the client, bringing us a dozen mini cupcakes from Dot's! Meanwhile, Grace and Drea came over for dinner and brought Porto's cheese rolls and a Chinese strawberry shortcake wannabe cake from my favorite bakery in Arcadia, Cathy's Bakery (right across from Yogurtland and next to Sinbala in the Baldwin complex, and I say wannabe because it is just not as sweet as a regular strawberry shortcake). We caught up, talked, and I tried to feed Jordan with the boob cover (ultimate fail), gave up and went inside to feed him while trying to continue conversation with my friends from Jordan's room. For most of the night, we obsessed over Jordan, how small he was, how cute he was, how alert he was and then took a million photos of him and my friends, all currently without child, observed three poops, a geyser of peep attack me and his first blowout ever.
The first blowout. A time to remember. A time to cherish. A time to laugh.
The timing of Jordan's first blowout was impeccable. Keep in mind my girlfriends had already been inquiring about the texture of the poop and as Andy and I attempted to explain how his poop could fire missiles at my face, the explanation fell short of actually witnessing it. As they did, it all became too clear and they giggled with the excitement of little girls as they watched from afar, clenching onto the fact that distance would keep them shielded. Following all this, we took photos in front of the cake. As I sat down between Grace and Drea, we thought, why not have Jordan in the photo too? Andy handed him over to us and as he got the camera ready to shoot, we suddenly heard it. And since I was holding him, I felt it. And priceless is the photo that captured our reactions as we realized and seconds later, a liquidy substance on my hand implied he indeed had a blowout! Andy quickly took over as I washed my hands and then joined him to assess the damage.
What a night to remember. My first birthday with a husband and a son and it was indeed... a blowout!