"Don't Get All Wedding Cake On Me"

OMG, can't talk. Must continue to get ready for D.J.'s party, but that was one crazy, mixed up day. Chef Nola was not there. Two students were missing. We mixed 32 ounces of whipped-to-stiff-peaks egg white batter with our hands. My cheesecake was a bummer because I didn't cream the cream cheese long enough. "Don't get all wedding cake on me," Chef Sub said. I guess that's chef speak for being a diva. (Put me in my place.)

Then the whole way home, I was griping to myself that someone had taken my angel food cake, which looked pretty darned impressive at practically a foot high, but was so sugary—2 pounds worth, I kid you not—I was going to throw it away anyway. But when I got home, not only was it the wrong cake—my cheesecake was beginning to look good at this point—when I opened my second box, turned out I had taken G and E's two beautiful, much, much, much better-than-mine cheesecakes. One even has a chocolate swirl on top.

I tried to call their bakery number uptown, but no answer or machine. I'm really sorry, G & E!