It’s been just another grey winter’s day in Berlin, quite depressing. The moment, I woke up, I knew I needed something to cheer me up big time if I wanted this Saturday to be a day worth living. That’s when I started thinking of cake. Some very special cake. A cake, I couldn’t bake myself. A cake, I had to get out of bed and run into town to buy it from some French people answering to the name of Lenôtre. A cake so yummy, I would not dare to wash it down with milk or tea or coffee, not even champagne, just to make it linger on my tongue. A dough rich of pistaccios and cherries to make it irresistible, some vanilla custard to make it creamy, a crumble topping to make it crunchy, and some maraschino cherries and powdered sugar on top to make it look fancy. That was the cake that got me through the day. I’m still high on serotonine, so I guess, it’ll get me through Sunday, too.