The Cake Guy

I’ve lived in Atlanta for almost 9 years and people still write to me or mention my Mom’s cakes in conversation. In my life, I’ve had many names: Jorge, George, Jorge Alberto (if I heard that, I knew I’d done it), Cheech, Giogio, Gio and in the last decade JD. Still, there was a recurring name I was given in many a job I had back home: the Cake Guy.

 

Now, although I’ve learned to bake some of Mom’s cakes although to a lesser degree (albeit still respectable), Mom was always the Cake Queen. The amount of birthdays, weddings, sweet sixteens, quinceañeros, parties, gatherings, and all sorts of festivities that included one of Mom’s cakes was easily in the hundreds and possibly in the thousands. Beyond that, I’d often tell Mom to bake a certain amount of cakes and that I would sell them for her in the office, thusly becoming the unofficial (but probably quite official) distributor for Marietta’s Sweets, in addition to my duties as a creative copywriter in advertising and public relations. To keep things on the up and up, I would often talk with a supervisor or someone from HR to make sure everyone was OK with this sweet side hustle, although I mainly got paid in cake and love. Fortunately, I never encountered any “buts”. Quite the contrary actually. They’d thank me and in the same paragraph ask me when I could bring some cakes. Please note, cakes. Plural.

 

So for monthly birthday celebrations, I’d bring, one or two (even up to three) of Mom’s cakes. At some offices, I had a part of my desk dedicated to the storage of cakes. As a promotor, I was always beyond confident in the product because not only did I know the chef, I had the privilege of trying those cakes from batter to bundt, sometimes with only enough time out of the oven to be able to de-mold.

 

On more than one occasion people would ask me if I worried that someone wouldn’t take me seriously at work for selling Mom’s cakes or if I thought it would affect me in any way. I’d reply that I always deliver what I have in the pipeline and that one thing has nothing to do with the other. Besides, it was for Mom and I’d do anything for her, and this especially since it brought Her joy as well as anyone fortunate enough to snag a piece of cake. That’s how I was in four different jobs I had. With either days dedicated to the delivery of cakes or with a cake (or several) available at my desk, ready to go to anyone who had heard stories or wanted to confirm their in-depth flavor theories of the levels of deliciousness contained within those cakes, while I delivered every task I had been assigned. Her heart was always full when she knew her cakes were a hit and that people often fought for a second piece (never violent, but plenty insistent).

 

Nowadays, although I no longer sell cakes, they live on in my stories. Mrs. Fawn is one of my absolute favorite characters to write because she’s inspired by Mom. She appears in several of my books because she’s not bound by any rules, literary or otherwise. She has a universal magic that is welcome in any story she wants to step in and she’s with me in everything. Aside from her pivotal role in the cosmos, Mrs. Fawn doesn’t limit herself to that type of magic. There’s always a slice of lemon cake nearby to offer weary travelers sweet nourishment with a side of smiles.

 

As I mentioned above, I was witness to the entire process to make one of Marietta’s cakes. From the batter, I knew it’d be on point. From how it looked, to how it flowed silkily into the mold and the Elysian aromas that would hug every corner of the house as magic did its thing within the oven. But beyond the recipe, there was something she included in each and every cake of which there was no shortage in her pantry: love.

 

Today would have been 76 and although we toast to you today, the fact is that every time I raise my glass, your name is there apart from having it tattoed in my soul. With my stories, the legacy of her cakes continues in a way, because although I may be many things, part of me shall always be the Cake Guy and Marietta’s youngest.

 

Thanks for reading,

 

Peace, love, lemon cake and Cheers Mama Estrada.

 

 

#CheersMamaEstrada