Lunedì, 22 Marzo, 2004 | Posted by Marie Sven Gerkin at 14:55

It was a couple of days before you were due. We had been counting down the minutes for nine months. We had just celebrated our second year of marriage. There was a drop of champagne and I remember very rich chocolate cake.

During the night, your mother came into labour.

That chocolate cake had come from Sven's around the corner. It was his specialty.

We rushed to the hospital. Through your mother's huffing and puffing every two and a half minutes, we made it to Saint Jerome's with time to spare.

The cake was built up with layers of chocolate sponge. In between each was a soft layer of chocolate creme mixed with sweetened ricotta cheese. The outer was then coated with more chocolate that had been melted and blended together with crushed almonds. It formed a hard, crunchy crust.

As your mother got out of the car - I have to be thankful for this as it could have happened in the new Volvo - her waters broke. Right there in the street. I heard the splash on the pavement. I though it was raining. I looked up to a clear, night sky. It was full of twinkling stars. The look of horror on Silvia's face told me exactly what had happened. I wasn't going to say a thing.

When you cut into Sven's chocolate cake, you first had to break through the outer crust. If you succeeded, you then carefully sliced through the soft layers, trying to make sure that all the creamy ricotta didn't sqish itself away.

The doctor was already there. He was prepped and waiting. They gave me a gown. "I don't think I'm in any condition to deliver the baby tonight", I joked. No one laughed.

"Me, deliver the baby, ... you know, you've given me a gown ... like a doctor...Ha, Ha, Ha ..." No one laughed. I was in no condition to make jokes.

Silvia looked at me. And I didn't say another word all night.

Eating Sven's famous Chocolate cake, is like having angels making love on your tongue. It's like sex with a perfect stranger. It's like ...

Silvia was looking at me. She knew what I was thinking. And I didn't think another thought all night.

The labour pains where now very frequent. Only seconds apart. Silvia had her legs up and parted like a bad haircut. It must be the most unflattering position for a woman. I decided to stay at the head, while the doctor and his assistants crouched down like they were about to participate in a rugby scrum.

"I can see the head", said the doctor delighted. "Mr Gerkin, would you like to come over and take some photographs of this?"

Really? Who was I going to show 'this' to?

I had visions of nights in front of the fire with Silvia's parents, or Uncle Jozef, looking through photographs of this moment. "And this is the placenta coming out". Maybe we could save them for her boss, Mr Savone. That would be a pleasant evening.

I declined humbly. The doctor insisted I see this. "Come along Lionel, this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience." You'll be able to tell your child about this day.

I moved toward the business end of the bed. The doctor pulled me down and I came face to face with the "opening". There was your head, now poking out quite a bit. You were covered in a thick goo that looked like a very thin layer of Sven's famous chocolate cake.

I swallowed hard. That hard outer crust with its crunchy, crushed almond texture, those smooth layers of rich ricotta, the chocolate recipe that had been handed down from Danish ancestors to Danish heirs was about to make its way into the world.

I looked up and the doctor was dragging you out. First one shoulder popped out, then the other. Just as you cried your first sound, Sven's famous chocolate cake coated the pull-on paper boots that covered the assistant's feet. They went from a clinical white to a mission brown. I could see the specs of almond rushing around of the floor.

We christened you Marie Sven Gerkin. Now you know why your middle name is Sven. We never figured that your initials would read MSG.

Sorry about that.

I still dream about that cake, even though I have never tried it again since.

Posted by Marie Sven Gerkin at 22.03.04 14:55 | TrackBack