9 April 1999, 808 words
Dear Ken -
I have conceived the most wonderful recipe: a right-side-up pineapple cake. I have been up all night perfecting it. To me, such a cake is exactly what the region needs at this time. People still come into my bakery and ask for French bread! I throw them out, of course. Have we learned nothing from 1970? I scream at them. I have fewer customers, but more time for baking. I do not mind. Let only those who can truly appreciate what I am attempting to do, eat. This recipe flips all the usual concepts on their head, literally. I am even thinking of leaving out the pineapple, but am hesitant. I feel only the most highly refined flour connoisseurs would understand.
Wilson
Dear Ken -
George Lamming came by today. He is cautious of my recipe, although he expressed admiration for my boldness. He himself is working on a brioche. The recipe calls for1 tbsp yeast and 2 cups plain flour - he is worried that this may just be a method of keeping us economically dependent on the metropole. It is a perceptive point: why does every recipe require yeast? I have always admired his rock cake, although one piece takes an hour to chew and swallow. But it is worth the effort, for he uses ingredients only from local quarries.
Wilson
Dear Ken -
Tried out my new recipe for the first time today. But the effect was not as startling as I had hoped. I suspect that an upside-down cake was, in its day, a revolutionary statement. But, as happens with all recipes, the innovative soon becomes passé. Thus, my righting what was once upside-down says less than I had hoped. I am thinking of leaving out the eggs.
Wilson
Dear Ken -
I just heard: Selvon has made banana bread! The entire Leewards are outraged, and I understand the Windwards have filed an official complaint with the WTO. I admire Sam's commitment to using West Indian ingredients and I know he goes to great lengths to locate them wherever he is in Canada. But he cannot get away from the fact that the recipe calls for1 cup mashed bananas, although the eggs (2) are unbeaten. I suspect he thought the1 tsp lime juice would mitigate protest. I am surprised he did he not stick to black cake as he always does, but perhaps he ran out of rum.
Wilson
Dear Ken -
Went to London to buy sifted flower and ran into Naipaul. He is doing a Danish pastry -12ozs flour, 1 tbsp yeast, 2 oz granulated sugar, 9oz butter and a few other ingredients he would not divulge. He is an intensely private man, but sad. He puts a lot of himself into his muffins - just last month he lost a fingertip. He liked my idea of omitting the eggs from the cake, but says Hindus have been doing so for centuries. I had always thought this was because India lacked hens, but Naipaul tells me it is actually because their religion forbids violence and so they cannot beat the eggs. I myself find his pastries filling but unimaginative. Don't tell him this.
Wilson
Dear Ken -
Had a fearful argument with one of the younger bakers yesterday. His name is Rabindranath Maharaj and his crusty rolls are quite reminiscent of Naipaul's early recipes. We argued because he felt I should not be selling beef pies and I told him that some of my best customers were Indians like himself. He shouted that I was a liar and, worse, a Christian and I was forced to hit him with a macaroon made with 2 stiffly beaten egg whites, 1 cup grated coconut, 2 cups corn flakes, 1/2 cup chopped walnuts, 1/2 tsp vanilla. He is in the hospital now with a concussion.
Wilson
Dear Ken -
The cake is finished. I used no pineapple, no eggs, no sugar and hardly any flour. It is my most perfect work, and I tell you I have baked a great cake. But, to my great shock, the public does not like it. One man, whom I can only assume was born with a wooden palate, even said "Ptooey!" I threw him out of my bakery, of course. But I do not care. The cake is done and sits proudly in the front of the display case. Let the public purchase the usual brownies, sugar-cake and double-Dutch chocolate! They shall become fat and get heart disease, all because of their colonial minds! Meanwhile, like pearl cast before swine, my cake sits perfect in its uneatenness. I am both proud and depressed. It is at times like these I wish I had listened to my mother and become a novelist instead. At least I would have avoided all this heartache.
Wilson
Copyright ©1999 Kevin Baldeosingh