A friend of mine decided a few weeks back to fly to Seattle and buy some pastry. It was on a Friday. Now, I can count on one hand the number of times I've flown on a plane since 1987 so booking a trip for pastry seems a bit extravagant.
And so I asked him, when I saw him the following evening, "You just flew to Seattle for pastry?" And he responded, "Sometimes I get bored on Fridays."
My friend bought several hundred dollars worth of treats and brought them back to for a party, for people he sees regularly and for others he hasn't seen in decades. As the party wound down, he announced to the group the pastry was for us. He wanted us to each take one, take it home to enjoy with our families. Or, I suppose, we could down it on the way home.
I snagged a smorkage, or smørkage, and it took me over a week to finish it. I wanted it to last as long as possible--without it going bad, that is.
Google translates smørkage as "Butter Cake." To me, smorkage is now Danish for "love." Thanks Jeff. It was sweet.
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