Mr Finkel’s Malteser birthday cake, aged 5 hours, passed away between 6 and 6:25pm on 23rd April 2024 after a short deliberation and subsequent consumption by its creator, Mrs Finkel and some willing helpers. Weighing up the facts like baking ingredients, Mrs Finkel decided that her husband absolutely did not deserve a birthday cake, much less the effort she had put into creating it.
Mr Finkel’s cake was born the same day it died, on Mrs Finkel’s day off, the day she had left free especially in order to make a cake for Mr Finkel’s 52nd birthday, rejecting an offer of a lunch date with her neighbour Monica who had just become a grandmother for the third time.
Mr Finkel’s cake was conceived in the mind of Mrs Finkel six months previously on a Sunday afternoon when Mr Finkel, flicking idly through the satellite TV channels, happened upon an episode of a cookery show featuring Nigella Lawson. Mr Finkel had commented on the voluptuousness of the buttercream icing while licking his lips and said he “wouldn’t mind a bit of that.” Mrs Finkel stored away this information in a recess of her brain marked “birthday ideas” which she retrieved later, looked up the recipe online and copied into her notebook. She was amused to read that Maltesers can be known as “malt balls” in the US, and felt sure her husband would enjoy the cake as much as she would.
The ingredients that went into the creation of Mr Finkel’s cake were purchased from a supermarket in Horsham by Mrs Finkel on her way back from dropping Mr Finkel’s blue wool suit at the dry cleaner’s. The sponge mixture was mixed lovingly using a mechanical rotary egg whisk inherited from Mrs Finkel’s mother, and baked in tins received as a wedding gift from Mrs Finkel’s Aunt Vera. The icing of the sponges was accompanied by a selection of Schubert piano concertos and its completion was heralded with great enthusiasm by Mrs Finkel who didn’t usually have much luck with cakes and was quite impressed with her efforts even if she did say so herself. Its photograph was shared with Monica via Whatsapp who responded with a licking lips emoji, and with the Finkels’ daughter Emily who said she hoped there would be some left when she visited at the weekend.
Mr Finkel’s cake, with its topping of malted buttercream and crown of Maltesers, was completed in the early afternoon of Mr Finkel’s birthday and enjoyed a brief spell of relaxation on a glass stand on the Finkel’s kitchen countertop. Its honour was defended from the attentions of the Finkel’s dachshund Freddie by Mrs Finkel wielding a tea towel.
In the latter stages of its life, Mr Finkel’s cake was put into the fridge to shield it from the warm afternoon sun. It remained there for two hours in the company of several cans of Mr Finkel’s favourite lager, Freddie the dachshund’s steamed chicken breasts, and an assortment of cholesterol-lowering yoghurts and spreads the Finkel’s disliked but felt obliged to eat regularly.
At 5pm on the 23rd April, Mrs Finkel received a text message from Mr Finkel letting her know of his delay at work due to an unexpected visit from the Shadow Secretary of State for International Development. Mrs Finkel, passing the time while scrolling absently through Facebook on her tablet, realised that it was logged in to her husband’s account and not hers. A couple of clicks into his private messages led to her discovery of the truth of her husband’s whereabouts, what he was really hoping to receive on his birthday, and who he was hoping would avail him of this gift (spoiler alert: it had nothing to do with Mrs Finkel or a cake and everything to do with Mr Finkel’s colleague Natasha).
Mr Finkel’s cake will be fondly remembered by Mrs Finkel, her neighbour Monica, Monica’s son David, David’s wife Joanna and their children William and Evie who were visiting when Mrs Finkel turned up unexpectedly on Monica’s doorstep insisting that they help her to eat it because she’d spent half the day making it and she was damned if that bastard was going to get one tiny bit of it. Freddie the dachshund was the last to lick the crumbs from the glass stand and was disappointed not to have played a bigger role in the cake’s story.
Mr Finkel’s cake is survived by its creator, Mrs Finkel, and by Freddie the dachshund, but not by its intended recipient, Mr Finkel, who sadly crashed his car into the central reservation speeding home from his rendezvous with Natasha after Mrs Finkel sent him some alarming screenshots and a voice note telling him exactly what she thought of him.
Mrs Finkel and Freddie would appreciate Maltesers in lieu of flowers or donations towards Mrs Finkel’s new cake mixer. She’s come to the conclusion that she isn’t too bad at making cakes after all.
