Cake

Tonight I went to the Harbour Grand in Fortress Hill, and ate cake. There was a buffet there in honour of a friend's impending baby, but since, as with every buffet in Hong Kong, there were mounds of meat, I felt like I was being deprived by my inability to feast on the available food.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, there was still cake. There was almost as much cake at the Harbour Grand as there was meat.  Tiny square chocolate brownies in china ladles. Rose flavoured mousse in shot glasses. American cheesecake. Earl Grey chocolate cake. Macaroons. Cupcakes with sugar decorations on top. More rose flavoured mousse.

And a harpist, although she wasn't edible. She was playing selections from Mary Poppins, which struck me as a strange musical choice for an evening buffet in a five-star hotel. If I'd been the harpist, I'd have played the theme from Minder.

Actually, if I'd been the harpist, I'd have slashed my fingers on the harp strings and wailed, flailing my bloody, useless hands at passing guests. And that would not be appetising.

Lucky I wasn't the harpist, I suppose.

Anyway, I ate as much cake as I could, and an artichoke, so that my diet wasn't too unbalanced, then got shovelled into a taxi and driven home, feeling so tired that I thought I was going to faint. Probably because I hadn't eaten enough cake.