Every Wellington bachelor has several idée fixes. They vary from bloke to bloke, save for one: that the “hot bread” bakery closest to their abode is the best bakery in the entire Wellington region.
Surely it must be so. There’s always a line – it has to be good. The cases are loaded with gleaming gold baked goods. Meat pies! Doughnuts, billowing with cream! Tiles of fudge and lolly cake, planks of pizza bread! They take the nevvies on Saturday morning for a pie and a drink after game practice, or stop by to pick up a “pull-apart†loaf when they have to bring a plate to a party. Best of all, it’s independent. Not a chain or anything.
Are they so independent? With all that variety, there has to be a compromise somewhere. The freezer and the industrial-size food service tins are hiding behind the racks of iced buns, and the golden hues of the pastry and custard, even the loft of the fresh cream, are “assisted.”
Do you have the heart to tell the bachelor you know? No? Me, neither.
huh. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lolly_cake has the mysterious sentence “This is very similar to fifteens.” What are fifteens?