Let’s talk about this cake. Otherwise I will eat it. As long as my fingers are distracted by typing, and my tongue by poking out the corner of my mouth whilst I type, I won’t keep eating it. My best pal’s mother is a Baker with a capital B. Cakes, cupcakes, muffins, slices, biscuits – the kitchen is never without a platter of something winking at poorly disciplined passers-by (aka me.) She baked this beautiful little suitcase cake, complete with flags (and a Great Britain stamp which lost its GB in transit) for me as an edible goodbye and I feel we all need to revel in its beauty.