Yesterday I went to my first book club meeting. I don't know if this makes me decidedly bourgeois? If it doesn't, me bringing along a carrot cake definitely does. But so what? I enjoyed Ian McEwan's On Chesil Beach, talking about it and eating cake while talking about said book. The cake has about 20 ground cardamom pods in it and a good dose of honey. The cream cheese frosting has the zest of a whole orange in it. The book uses sex as its through line so I needed something to shore me up as I talked about sex with a room full of women I didn't know. I am British, after all.