This one time my mom convinced me it wasn't lame for her adult daughter to tag along to her office party full of old friends, beef tenderloin, and those wonderful butter-and-cracker-topped casseroles I only eat on rare occasions. But then she mentioned that the dessert count on the potluck list was low. She assured me that someone would "pick something up." Pick something up? Do you know what that says to me? Someone would run by the grocery store bakery (God bless the grocery store bakery) and get one of those so-so pies or, worse yet, a fruity thing covered in that fake whipped cream.
For the sake of the party, I had to intervene. I recalled a chocolate chip-laden bundt I had been eying, printed the recipe, ran to the store, and lo and behold, by bedtime there was a homemade cake ready to be toted across town the next night.
Bundt cakes always make me think of the poor plain, conservative mother in My Big Fat Greek Wedding who brings one to the ever-lively Greek family party. Her bundt was lame next to all that wonderful Greek meat. But this bundt would not have more acceptable, for it is topped with a buttery, sugary pecan coating. And nuts are in baklava. And baklava is Greek. The word for nut probably even comes from Greek. Thus, this nutty bundt might have caused less awkward interaction between the soon-to-be in-laws. It might or might have still been served with a flower in the middle or have required a spray of Windex.