Spice Cake

At the end of my walk yesterday morning I stepped into the nearby gas station party store to buy a Sunday paper. I like to do the crossword puzzles as well as the Sudoku and such, typically only about half succeeding with any of the games. But it's become a habit. I need my Sunday newspaper fix. The withdrawal when I miss it is ugly.

As is it only fitting to counteract the benefits of exercise with sugary treats, I examined the snack aisle, selecting carrot cake. Arriving back home, I ate it with black coffee as I read the comics, and it was good. But it wasn't what I wanted. I wanted spice cake.

Me Pops used to buy spice cake all the time. He loved it. The ones he bought were triple tiered, which if I remember rightly had cream cheese icing on top and between layers. I'm not sure why it was called spice cake, because it wasn't spicy in the sense of, say, chili, or other hot foods where you would normally expect spice. Dad's spice cake was more tangy. It had something of a bite which cakes normally don't have.

I used to see it all the time in the stores. Now, I can't remember when. To be sure, there are recipes for it online. Yet would they be like me Pop's old treat?

Maybe I'll actually try baking one one day. 

Nah, who am I fooling? I'll just double down on finding one in a store as I shop over the coming weeks. It's probably just sentimental that I want one at all. But nothing wrong with that, right?