Everyone has their favorite cake or memories of their favorite cake, or favorite memories of their favorite cake.

Mine are associated with this plum cake from Marosa Bakery in Bombay. Does anyone remember?

My uncle got us this cake (he was a foodie extreme), all the way from Flora Fountain when we were kids. At that time I didn't know how far he drove to get it, who or what was Marosa, or what went into this cake. All I knew was that it looked ugly, but tasted divine, every morsel a juicy surprise: a raisin, a cherry, a walnut.

Fast forward to my first day at my first job. Central Bank Main Office, Flora Fountain. As I began to climb the ancient marble steps, I smelt that aroma again. Someone was baking that same spicy rich cake somewhere.

Marosa Bakery was right next to where I stood.

As I was abosorbed into the Parsi culture of Central Bank, Marosa became a part of our lives.

Any and every occasion had to be celebrated by a cake from that hallowed institution.