I'm not really a dessert person. Given the option, I'd rather have an espresso or another glass of wine or a seductive little cheese plate at the end of a meal. As I get older, my desire for sugar and sweets has diminished considerably. Most people I know are mad for chocolate, but I've little taste for it, a trait I'm proud to say I share with Hollaback Girl. In fact, I think we first bonded when we revealed this mutual chocolate indifference to one another.

It is important to accommodate those who do like their chocolate so I keep a candy jar on my desk to offer something to nibbly colleagues when they stop in. Perhaps it's a sad reflection of my needy character that I must employ cheap inducements like candy in order to entice someone into my office, but whatever the motive, it works. I enjoy a steady stream of visitors popping in for their daily fix.

Jewels is one of my favorite visitors. While he is working off the wrapper of a Kit Kat bar, he will amuse me with one of his witty barbs, a dance number, even a verse or two from "Sweeny Todd". Jewels is a dangerous influence on me, a pied piper of vice, but he's been unsuccessful luring me out for sweets. Now and again, he'll creep in and whisper in conspiratorial tones, "Come on. Let's sneak out of here and go to Billy's Bakery for cupcakes." It just doesn't have the same hook for me as, say,"Let's go suck down a pomegranate margarita from Rosa Mexicana."

But in truth, I'm not so damn virtuous. I have to reveal a secret, one which might subject me to a little bitchslap from Hollaback Girl or The Dog Whisperer.

There is but one dessert that I do covet, but by virtue of geography, I have not had it for a number of years. Warm memories are the thing that lashes my affection to this sweet--some would say revolting--confection. It's red velvet cake with white icing. I adore it.

I haven't made an earnest search, but I've never come across red velvet cake in any capacity since I've lived here. The last time I had a piece, years ago, was in Gettysburg, PA while I was on a civil war monument trek with Marv and MeiMei. MeiMei likes her sweets, but she did not love the ruby red slab of cake we had that day at a roadside diner. Honey, I certainly did. I may have actually licked the plate and emitted some furtive groans of epicurean pleasure while finishing the last of the icing caught on the edge of the plate. I practically had an out of body experience--sublime.

Like most of my preferences, I can't explain this leaning. I just give in to them. From the first time I tried this confection (and it's probably safe to say I tried it at MaryCatherineFullofGrace's house), I was hooked. Maybe it was the vibrant red of the cake, the silky texture and sweetness of the icing. Maybe because it looked like the Polish flag when sliced and laid out on a plate. I don't know. What I do know is that if I come across it in my travels, I will forgo eating for an entire day in order to savor a slab of this gooey goodness.

I was watching the Food Network recently and saw a rerun of a wedding cake competition. The selection of pastry chefs competing for the coveted title hailed from all over the US and had very distinctive cake design styles. One of the competitors was a colorful character named Raven Patrick De'Sean Dennis the 3rd, but everyone called him Cake Man Raven. Apparently, Cake Man Raven owns a well known shop in Brooklyn and he specializes in...red velvet cake. When I heard this, I had to take a deep breath. Within reach.

I mentioned this to Jewels this week. He extracted his Metrocard and held it up like a golden ticket. "Let's go," he said breathlessly.

A little shout out for the Cakeman:
http://www.cakemanraven.com/