Moving to Los Angeles over six years ago meant giving up a number of Louisiana’s finer points such as Mardi Gras. During the weeks leading up to Fat Tuesday, King Cakes are everywhere and they are delicious. I have been missing out on them for years now. Because my friend Bryan is more kind-hearted than is good for him, he spent a ridiculous amount of money to send Erika and I a surprise king cake Tuesday. It came with a variety of extras: beads, a cup, a CD of Mardi Gras music, and a t-shirt. We turned up the music, danced around the house, and ate king cake (We even re-enacted New Orleans style bead throwing from the loft). I got the baby in my first piece (thank goodness Gambino’s hasn’t pussed out like everyone else and still puts the damn thing inside the cake). Thanks, homes.