Let them eat cake!

Oh Nigella, it is the most divine cake to pass the lips of a mere mortal like me, but my how it takes so long to make.

Today is Fancy Dress Day at school. My son has gone dressed as a cowboy. In the afternoon there is a school tea. I began to bake the cake for this at 9.30 last night. It was iced and ready to go at 1.45. (OK, I could have finished it abit earlier but would have missed the ending of The Mother, a film on BBC 4, which I was enjoying despite its multi-layered themes of loss and loneliness and desire and betrayal and and and.... back to the post..)

In January I volunteered to be the school's Class Tea Queen. I'm a great believer in cakes, it seemed fitting. However I didn't like this title so renamed it the Queen of Tarts. There's something abit more risque about that; a pun, a play, a parody, a pretence, whatever, it was received as it was intended; lighthearted and fun.

Duty comes with being the Queen of Tarts however. Not just making sure that classes know when it's their turn, or printing out fliers, or posting the event on walls and windows. When it's my son's year's turn, I feel duty bound to make one. It's a school effort today, I feel duty bound.

Why Nigella's time gobbling chocolate fudge?

Why, because it's the best!

Homemade cakes you see, fetch the highest price. Prices range from 5p to 70p. Nigella's chocolate fudge goes at 70p a slice.

Now I must go to set up and serve. I never get to eat my cake, it disappears so quickly as I or someone else dishes it up. I always remember though, always remember, my son's implorations. "Save a slice for me mummy!" Yes my sweet, you shall eat cake!