Lazy Cakes

Lazy Cake is mine and Christos’ favourite dessert.

My nan used to own a confectionery in Cyprus and I remember waiting for her to fill up the display so I could have one of the left overs. In Cypriot it’s called Doukissa (duchess), in Greek its called mosaiko (mosaic) in Italian its called Salame di Cioccolato (chocolate salami – bless the Italians). Its so easy to make, see here for the recipe, it doesn’t need to go into the oven and it is deeeeelicious.

I haven’t spoken to Chris in weeks and I’ve made this cake every week. I never missed having it before now and it had never crossed my mind to make it. I think I’ve replaced talking to him with eating his favourite cake – chocolate comfort doesn’t count as calories. I know he’s okay, I know he had a cold and got over it, I know he spent a few nights at his nans – I just never hear it from him.

As well as stuffing my face with delicious cake, I have inadvertently surrounded myself with his jumpers, his pictures. My bedside  table now has more pictures than it has surface, and everyday they fall off, and everyday I put them back. In the years I have been away from Cyprus I have, apparently, programmed myself to not think of them but to just surround myself with their faces, their things. In the last week I have been tired a lot, drowning out silence however I can, keeping myself busy, I hadn’t written anything on the blog about Christo for weeks, I hadn’t seen him or heard him or spoken about him much and it took its toll; and I only realised this when I was talking to a friend about Christo. I talked about him and all I could think of was the way he asks for a piece of Doukissa when we are at the shop. He stands close to the fridge, puts one had on his side and points to the cake with the other, then he yells ‘Thodoga’ (that’s me) and smiles. I go over, he hugs me and kisses me and asks for one piece of Doukissa just this once, and I get it for him every time.

When a love is so big it can dim the sky, you don’t need words. I don’t need constant interaction or reassurance. I need one glimpse of him, one sound, one ‘Hello’ to remind me what the hell I’m doing so far away from everything I love.

By loving him I never forget who I am.

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