My personal pastry chef

When Scott moved here, he knew the conditions.

He arrived at the Colorado Springs Airport, afraid he wouldn't recognize me having only met me a couple times when his sister and I were in college together. She was my best friend and so her brother felt comfortable calling me when he got a job in Colorado and asking to stay with me for a weekend while he became familiar with the area and looked for an apartment.

As he came out of security, I saw him. He walked up to me and I introduced him to the older couple I was standing with--the sorority alumnae chapter president and her husband. Definitely a sign of things to come.

I had warned him before he came that I had some sorority committments that weekend--chaperoning a social event on Saturday night and attending a brunch on Sunday morning. I had to bring something to the Sunday brunch so he and I debated the possibilities. We decided on mini-cheesecakes, which is how we found ourselves at the grocery store buying cheesecake ingredients--without a recipe--after midnight on Saturday night/Sunday morning.

At 4am, having successfully baked four dozen mini-cheesecakes--remember, no recipe--and attempted to watch the most confusing episode of ER ever, we caught a few ZZZs before the brunch in the morning.

Once he moved here, I suckered him into being a food consultant for recruitment last year--which explains how we ended up making fruit kabobs in his apartment one night and how he ended up practically locked in the sorority house kitchen during the last day of parties decorating mini-cakes.

So this spring I gave him the dates for recruitment and he's like, "Well, I may be out of town around then, but we'll work it out." He buys a plane ticket, and sure enough, his three-week trip home means he won't be here for recruitment.

So I'm making 6 yellow cakes, freezing them and cutting them into rounds, meanwhile cursing my absent pastry chef. From now on I will hold him captive during the month of October.