The headline for this post should really be “Wife Steals Cheesecake, Writes About It”.

Yesterday at a little after eleven in the morning, I was making tea in my kitchen when the doorbell rang. I fought my way down a hallway littered with toys and laundry to the front door to find what every girl dreams of finding at her doorstep just as she is making a cup of tea: a handsome man holding a cheesecake.

It’s true, and it was as wonderful as it sounds. There are moments – like the four or so nights of the week that my husband is out dining at some of the best restaurants in the city while I am stuck eating macaroni and broccoli for the gazillionth time – that I resent having a food writer as a husband. But this was not one of them.

Andrew was out at a Chefs Table Society meeting and then heading to the Vancouver Magazine Power 50 event in the evening. I reasoned that I should just have one piece (with my morning tea) so that I could let him know what this cheesecake tasted like when it was perfectly fresh and served with expertly steeped tea. For the record: there is no finer match, save perhaps some coffee from Trees Organic Coffee & Roasting House, the company that delivered the cheesecake. It was just the way I like it: a firm layer followed by a creamier one all sitting on a crumbly chocolate crust.

So I had one more slice. There was still ample cake left for Andrew, but then a funny little thing happened. After school the kids brought several friends over to paint pictures and the kids brought their mothers. This was completely unplanned and the house was a shambles. How could I have been expected to clean up when I had been so busy flipping through magazines while enjoying cake and tea all morning? I tried to compensate for the unsavoury state of my domestic affairs by offering small slices of cheesecake to the ladies. But then they wanted seconds. Long story short – there was barely a forkful of cheesecake left for Andrew when he arrived home.

So I am writing to tell Trees that I truly very sorry and that their cheesecake rules. I know that your amazingly dreamy delivery man swag was meant for him, but it arrived at a very bad, terrible, no good time and there was nothing that I could have done about it. He liked the bite that he did have, so I guess there’s that.

Sorry.

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