Reach for the top?

You grow while you sleep.

This saying actually has some truth to it.  So no, it’s not the idea I used to believe.  What I did believe was that I would one day grow taller than my mother.

My brother is taller than my father.  My sister is taller than my mother.  As the youngest, I naturally concluded that I too would eventually be taller than my mother*.  Suffice it to say I was mistaken.

I have always been rather short.  My proudest accomplishment at six was being the second shortest kid in my class, rather than the shortest kid.  In short, I never expected to be tall and I never felt short-changed because of my height.  Punning aside, there are quite a few advantages to it.  I can fit into small spaces.  I never bump my head on things, and when I fall it hurts less on account of the smaller distance.  It is extremely unlikely that I’ll ever date someone shorter than me, or even someone shorter than me while I’m wearing heels.

This cat is reaching for the sky.

I wasn’t reaching for the sky, just the tree next to me.  All I wanted was to be taller than my mother.  I didn’t have far to go; my mother is only 5’3’’.

Alas, I was destined to stop at 5’2.5’’.  I was, and am, the shortest in my family.  I can’t remember any sort of personal crisis arising from this experience, only a vague sense of disappointment.  It’s not like I made an extra effort to grow by drinking milk or whatever other methods the kids use these days.   I just…thought it was the natural order of things.  And it turned out it wasn’t.  As they say, that was that.  I’m not tall, and at this point I never will be.  And there ain’t nothin’ I can do ‘bout it.

*This belief brought up the slight dilemma that if people were continually growing taller than their parents, how has the human race not reached gargantuan heights yet?  I tended to brush this off as something I would, someday, understand.


Indecision never tasted so good

I am way behind on these essays.  That was probably already apparent to you.  I have been held up not by an unwillingness to write, but rather an unwillingness to edit.  But now things have gone too far.  I have five essays (if you include tomorrow’s) to post.  I promise to post one essay a day until I’m caught up.  I am making a commitment here people, a commitment.  It may not be pretty, but it WILL be done.

My gut reaction to this question is Cake.  As I began thinking about this essay, I realized that the best argument I could create was on the pie side of the issue.  Still, my gut would not be denied.  To resolve this most serious of problems I settled on the most logical of options: to hold a Cake vs. Pie taste test.  I baked my favourite cake, and my favourite pie, and pitted them against each other in a no holds barred food tasting contest.  I’d like to thank my two impartial judges* for assisting me in this endeavour.

*aka, my mother and father

The Competitors:

From the Pie category: Banoffee Pie

This competitor boasts a smooth toffee filling encased by a graham cracker crust.  This dreamboat is topped with banana slices and fluffy piles of whipped cream with just a hint of espresso.  Decadent to the last, this pie sports a rustic charm and perfectly proportioned components.

From the Cake category: Chocolate Peanut-butter Triple (double) layer Cake

Sinfully Delicious pretty much describes this competitor.  A rich, moist, sour-cream chocolate cake provides the base for the creamy pb-cream cheese frosting.  It ups the ante by adding a chocolate-pb ganache as the final touch to an already ridiculously rich dessert.

The Results:


Unanimous votes on this one.  I mean really, look at that oozing chocolate.  The pie may have some rustic charm, but it can’t compete with the cool demeanor of the Cake.


Contrast is the key to textural delight.  The Pie, with its crunchy crust, smooth caramel, fluffy whipped cream and mooshy** bananas was the clear winner here.  The Cake, so far, isn’t as beautiful on the inside as the out.

**Mooshy is a technical taste-testing term.

This last category is the only one on which the judges disagreed.  The majority** agreed that the peanut-butter-chocolatey goodness of cake was a 10 000 on the taste scale.  Pie was the runner-up at 9 985.   I mean really, how can you compete with chocolate?

***A majority consisting of one person whose vote counted for 5 people.

If you’re mathematically inclined*** you may have realized that Cake is our winner here.  The point could be made that I had a confirmation bias going into this test.  You say confirmation bias, I say loyalty.  There’s nothing wrong with loyalty, after all, it’s Ron Weasley’s most touted character trait.  (I guess that makes Pie Malfoy?  Not Voldemort, Lord Voldy is 100% Grade A evil.  Pie, while not as great as cake, still has some redeeming qualities.  You know what, I’m going to go with Justin Flinch-Fletchey here.  Kind of a jerk/pompous at times, yet still a good character at heart.)

Extended Harry Potter metaphors aside, I like most cakes and a fewer percentage of all pies out there.  And in the end, that is the deciding point of this issue for me: I’d rather eat a cake than a pie.

****The requirements of which being the ability to count to three and understand that 2 is greater than 1.