“I believe so,” Bilbo replied, sounding not at all confident.
“Yellow?” asked Frodo again. He poked inside the jar hesitantly with a wooden mixing spoon. An unidentifiable liquid pooled on the contents’ shiny surface then ran over the edge to merge with the rest of the syrup. “I don’t think I want to eat that,” Frodo said after a moment’s consideration.
“Now, my boy, don’t be so quick to judge,” the old hobbit chided gently. “We’ll just fancy up your cake with … hum… a coating of butter, then a little brown sugar, some cinnamon… Then we’ll add Gandalf’s gift… My, those slices tear easily, don’t they? We’ll just push them back together…”
“Urgh,” said Frodo. Nevertheless, he helped his uncle layer the pieces on his miserable last effort, trying to arrange the slices evenly. He and Bilbo coated the whole thing with a sweet mixture of brown sugar and spices, hoping that it would hide the questionable ingredient.
* * * * *
“Wonderful, Frodo!” Saradoc pronounced grandly, “Didn’t know you had it in you, boy. If I’d know you could bake a cake like this, I’d have fired Cook and employed you in the kitchen years ago!”
Esmeralda laughed, her silvery tones delighted. “I know Cousin Bilbo’s touch when I taste it, love. Bilbo’s teaching our lad to be a fine cook.”
Frodo blushed under his kin’s extravagant praise, old enough now to know that Saradoc was teasing him. This family dinner after the Party was small and intimate, consisting just of he and Bilbo, Saradoc and Esmeralda and little Merry. Hobbits had no objection to second suppers, but eight-year old Merry hadn’t been able to keep his eyes open. The little lad had fallen asleep draped over Frodo, refusing to release his adored elder cousin even in sleep. Frodo had carried the child to a divan and let him nap until waking him gently for dessert.
“May I have another?” asked Merry, licking his fingers.
“You’ve had two,” Frodo returned, reaching out to ruffle the bright curls.
Esmie was examining her slice, lifting up the flattened cake with her fork. “It is certainly unusual. It looks like a griddle cake that has been flipped over. How did you get it so flat, Frodo dear?”