red velvet cake and other urban legends
I mean, sure, you hear about it once in a while. Once in a long while. Like, um, exactly once. In college. In a class on urban legends. [Yet another reason for my skepticism, hmm. Hey also do not mock that class, that class was five units, hard as hell, and the only one of three classes standing between me and graduation in which the instructor made me take the freaking final exam.] But I have never actually seen a red velvet cake. Now I know why. Red velvet cake does not live in California and there is no reason a California kid would ever see one. Especially since red dye #40 [what happened to red dye #1 – #39?] was banned in California long ago by people who really really like carrot juice and are orange and do not think that is problematic but hey red food dye would be wrong. [Hey, orange people, you look weird, quit it with the carrot juice.] No. Red velvet cake lives in the South and, unlike grits which have no shame and present themselves at every opportunity day or night on plates of questionable sanitary status in truck stop diners [do not ask me, a, why I am so familiar with truck stop diners, or b, the horror I experienced the first time I saw grits, good God, where are the hash browns?] red velvet cake apparently only comes out on holidays and special occasions. Like, Christmas, or when you want to poison every attendee at your bicentenial family reunion.
Oh, also this is the other reason I know [possibly all made up] red velvet cake is in the South. Pooks posted a recipe. Pooks of course writes fiction and also like all proper Southern belles cannot iron so Pooks posting a recipe is suspect in and of itself but she mentioned her grandmother in the post that might make it sacred.