Just a couple of weeks ago I proclaimed to my wife that I don't like cake anymore. It just wasn't doing it for me, and I was ready to give it up.

That all changed on Saturday when I had dinner with our friends Amy and David. I provided the wonderfully smoked meat (mmmmmmm....meat), and they were gracious enough to prepare a killer desert. A killer, killer cake.

This wasn't just any cake mind you. It was a chocolate cake with chocolate chips embedded in the brown pillowy goodness. It was bathed in a heavenly drizzle that was made up of melted chocolate that had been mixed with whipped topping. In side the center of the cake (it was baked in a bundt pan) was a tasty raspberry puree that filled the entirety of the cake's core, and spilled forth with volcanic goodness. It was truly a sight and taste to behold.

The realization I came to is that I'm not completely against cake. I'm against cake that consists of little more than flower and cheap white sugar. I am so totally for cakes that are works of art, and I would be happy to eat any such cakes that you feel led to prepare for consumption.