That Takes the Cake

There is a long-standing, well-documented history of food suggestibility in my family, from the "brain on drugs commercial" egg-craving, to the hockey-induced interest in shark soup, and other ice cream tales.

I think this week takes the cake.

As a precaution, SwingDaddy has forbidden me to read any more of the "Year in Provence" and "Bella Tuscany" travel-foodie books, because they usually result in me demanding some kind of obscure melon only to be found in the south of France or hungry for some other unpronounceable delicacy.

I've been reading military science-fiction lately, which seems like innocuous material. Not so fast. Even space-force commanders have to eat between battles, and when Captain Serrano had soup, our household had soup for dinner too. Even worse, a few chapters later, there was discussion of an alliance with the Federation of Crescent Worlds and all I could think was, "I want crescent rolls!"

They were delicious.