The first time I was offered a slice of carrot cake here in Canada, I thought I was being set up or that somebody was trying to pull a trick on me. You see, there’s a Dutch joke about a rabbit, a bakery and a carrot cake. And everytime I see a carrot cake, I hear that joke’s punchline (‘Gross, eh?’) echoing in the back of my brain. I know it’s probably good (I tasted it once) but because of something cultural, I refuse to eat it.
A couple of months ago, when I rushed to Holland to meet up with family, I had a conversation with my 10 year old (or so) nephew and niece. They were telling typical kids stories, which I was playing all along. Have and have not stories, stories they wanted to know about what life was all about in Canada and what it was all about in The Netherlands. Naturally I was joking about us having polar bears in Nova Scotia. But they liked it anyways. And I do remember their faces (and facial expressions) when I told them about carrot cake. Yes, we do have carrot cake. Gross, eh?