I felt the smile creep across my face as I read Scott Beveridge’s “Our Town” piece on North Belle Vernon in this edition of Mon Valley Living.

At the mere mention of Valdiserri’s Bakery, my mind began to wander, my taste buds began to quiver.

All of a sudden, I had a craving.

I wanted cake.

Not just any cake, mind you, but a Valdiserri’s cake. At the risk of nettling other bakers, I’ll go as far as stating it’s the cake that bears the standard to which all cakes should aspire: flavorful, super-moist with a delicate crumb and a perfectly balanced, not-too-sweet buttercream icing.

Oh, I’ve fallen hard from the old diet wagon for just a sliver, which usually is followed by another sliver, and then, oh, let’s stop wasting time. Give me a slab. I’ll resume my diet when the last piece is gone and my sugar coma has subsided.

If Marie Antoinette had actually said, “Let them eat cake” – and apparently, that’s an urban myth – she would have specified Valdiserri’s.

I have Scott to thank for my Valdiserri cake obsession.

He introduced the cake to the newsroom more than 20 years ago when one of our colleagues was leaving the company.

I remember it well: It was a white cake with a raspberry fruit filling snuggled between two layers and topped with that now-familiar buttercream icing. I managed to snag a piece to take home to share with my family, only to devour it on the drive there.

Since then, Valdiserri’s has been part of every family celebration: birthdays, anniversaries, first Communions, graduations.

And nobody seems to mind the 40-minute drive to pick one up, either.

That’s probably because the cake courier gets the privilege of sampling other goodies, too.

But that’s another column.

Let them eat cake, for now.

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