By Ben Morrow
"What's in this cake?" asked the nephew who had just learned not to trust adults.
"Hammers," I said.
"No there isn't," he replied, but I'd placed a seed of doubt.
"I can't taste any hammers, just chocolate."
"Of course," I said, "they're tiny chocolate hammers."
The Hammer Cake is his new favorite, coincidentally, also mine.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
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