Sorry, Danise!
As BK posted, I was wrong about the cake!
I guess we call it Los Angelesienne Cake here...
BUT, after some Internet searching, guess what I've found, dated November 9, 1998?
This!......... and I have NO IDEA whoever wrote that!!
"The Real A: A Life
Before we delve into Miss Meryle Secrest's searing account of the weird and wacky life of me, may I just tell you, dear readers, that my dinner party was lovely. My famous beef strogonoff went over with a bang (no mean feat), my salad with dressing was eaten, rolls were ingested with and without butter, and the conversation was stimulating. Then came the dessert, my famous Parisienne Cake fresh from the bakery. Now, I have been buying and eating this particular cake since I was a teen (neet spelled backwards). It was a favorite of my mother's and I have carried on the tradition of said cake. So, imagine my surprise when I took a bite of my beloved Parisienne Cake and tasted rum! Yes, you heard it here, dear readers, rum! The problem with tasting rum (mur spelled backwards) in my beloved Parisienne Cake is that there is not supposed to be rum in my beloved Parisienne Cake. There is only supposed to be yellow cake and yummy chocolate. No rum. Sans rum. Exeunt rum. Outski with the rumski. So, there we all were, eating Parisienne Cake with rum, which meant we were not eating Parisienne Cake at all. We were eating rum cake. I don't know about you, dear readers, but I find rum heinous (heinous, do you hear me?). I do not like the rum in any way, shape or form. Rum is simply a flavor that has gone awry in my book (Chapter 139 - The Awry Flavor Of Rum). Well, I was most embarrassed by the Rum Cake (nee Parisienne). My guests pretended to like it, but I knew otherwise. So, this morning I took the remains of the former Parisienne turned Rum Cake back from whence it came. The people at the bakery were mortified to find rum in their Parisienne Cake. A mistake had been made, of that there was no doubt, said the bakery people. They were contrite. They offered me a brand spanking new Parisienne Cake at no charge. I took the cake (yes, you heard it here, dear readers, I take the cake) and now have an entire Parisienne Cake all to myself. You know that I cannot let that Parisienne Cake just sit there like so much fish, no, I'm going to have to eat the Parisienne Cake, eat it until I am lying prone on the rug unable to move. Hence, I better finish writing this here column, because once I start on that Parisienne Cake there will be no doing anything but lying prone on the rug."
