Dierbergs Cakes

When I was a kid, my family had a tradition. It all started when my mom had a birthday cake from Dierbergs. I'm not quite sure exactly how the story goes, but family lore seems to agree that my mom licked some of the frosting with her finger. It was her cake, after all. One of my siblings saw that and decided it was time to dig in. With his hands. Thus, the Dierbergs cake tradition was born. Dierbergs cakes must be consumed with hands only--utensils are not even optional.

Growing up my mom usually made my birthday cakes, but from time to time we would get a Dierbergs cake for some reason and dutifully follow tradition. Then I graduated high school, moved away, and haven't lived in close proximity to Dierbergs for several years. It's been a long time since I had a Dierbergs cake.

Last July when I visited Idaho and Utah to defend my thesis, I proposed a family birthday party. Three cousins, including Ella, have birthday within one week of each other in July, so it seemed like a good excuse to get together. And even though we didn't have a Dierbergs cake, my sister in law did some doctoring of the cake decorations and managed to write Dierbergs on the cake. So we had to follow tradition.

We had all the kids wash hands with soap then put them all on a tarp in the back yard. We explained the rules. Birthday kids get first swipe then everyone else could dig in. Hilarity ensued and great fun was had by all. The adults enjoyed a triple layer chocolate cake (with plates and forks) while the kids reveled in permissable food play. When the cake was finally demolished, only Ella was left primly sitting on the tarp with barely a hint of frosting on her face. The kids had a bawl and I wouldn't mind carrying on the tradition. Enjoy the evidence of the fiasco--unless eating with hands grosses you out. In that case, look away now.

Back off, buddy! This is my birthday cake!

Okay, you can have some.

Or not.