Why Mum Was Right About Cakes

Hello, my name is Mike. My friends call me Myko. If you are Nigerian, you should be familiar with how we tend to give one another nicknames around here. I grew up in Surulere in Lagos. We can say Surulere is at the heart of Lagos as it’s easily accessible to areas you might have things to do like Yaba, Ikeja, Victoria Island, Festac, Ikeja Ikoyi and the likes.

I grew up in a middle-class family. We weren’t so rich but we were not broke, I mean if you can afford 3 square meals a day in Lagos and a roof over your head, you are not broke. Lagos is known for its fast-paced environment. My Dad was a lawyer and my mom was a private chef. Both of them were in private practice. I had just one sibling who was my junior sister I always had to look out for.

Like I said my mom was a chef, dinner was always like a fast and don’t let me even get to talk about the weekends & festive periods like Christmas, Easter, New Year etc.  Weekends are the best because mom always gets to bake. I love cakes. I once ate the left over mom planned to gift her colleague. She was so pissed but I cared less, I already had the cake.  Over time, I gathered interest in baking cakes, I always monitored her in the kitchen every time, at about 14 years, I could make a standard and flawless vanilla cake. Her recipe made the cake come out moist, she liked the vanilla cake moist and this gradually became my favorite too. She had her own secret recipe for red velvet cake, her red velvet cake would always taste different, a taste would make you divorce your current cake baker.

I can remember my 18th birthday, mom made me a three layered. The day was so funny because I finished half of the cake before I got to school :”(, such a shameful act but can you really blame a cake addict?

I’ve got more to tell about my story. But I’m not gonna spill yet. Stay tuned to this blog. Cheers.