a cake is baking. In fact, thousands of cakes are baking. Cakes
are baking for all sorts of purposes: birthdays, weddings, anniversaries,
reunions, casual eating. Cakes are baking of all types of flavors: red velvet,
yellow, caramel, and of course, chocolate. All kinds of chocolate, in fact,
from sacher tortes to Dutch chocolate to fudge, with limitless variations on
the chocolate spectrum. Cakes are being baking by professional bakers, who will
display their wares proudly and earn a living from their beautiful creations.
But so too cakes are being baked by grandmothers, by grandfathers, by fathers,
mothers, and children; by pilots, doctors, lion trainers, and wrestlers. Cakes
are being baked on nearly every continent; and perhaps, every continent, if it
is the birthday of some lucky scientist in Antarctica. The baked cakes come in
all shapes and pans, from bundt to sheet to springform, and emerge in varying
states of beauty. Some of the cakes are works of art, and taste like such.
Others of the cakes are real food, with aesthetic appeal a mere afterthought.
And the majority of cakes are somewhere in between.
I just had a piece of cake.
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