Hiroshima's Famous Butter Cake
When I returned to my parents' home, my mother handed me a paper bag and said, "This is butter cake from Nagasakido."
It was in a large box that she said had been sent by a friend, and although it wasn't something I was very familiar with, it seems to be a popular local sweet (and even listed as one of the top 100 shops) that draws lines in the local area.
I had lived in Hiroshima for so long, so how did it never even cross my radar?
As soon as I got home, I eagerly opened the box to find a whole cake, so large that I could tell just by looking at it that I wouldn't be able to finish it alone.
The expiration date was about four days away. The gong of happiness had sounded.
The texture felt like a dense castella cake leaning slightly toward a chiffon cake.
When you eat it, the gentle flavor of eggs and butter spreads softly.
It's irresistible.
And above all, the browned outer edge has a slightly crunchy texture.
It brings a fragrant aroma along with it, making the experience in my mouth even more delightful.
What is this? It's delicious.
At first, my husband and I planned to eat it little by little, one-eighth at a time, but
before we knew it, we were debating whether it tasted better with milk, how the flavor profile changed with black tea, or how it soaked into the cake and became even tastier with coffee,
and we ended up eating it with such speed that it was gone in the blink of an eye.
Sweets are dangerous, but they are even scarier when you start thinking about the synergistic effects with different drinks.
As a result of this verification, I concluded that a light coffee goes best with this butter cake.
I eat the butter cake and savor it along with the bitterness of the coffee.
Even from afar, my discovery of the flavors of Hiroshima never stops.
