By: Danya Weiner   Every Tuesday I make the haul to Jerusalem to teach Studio Photography at Hadassah College. And every Tuesday I pass by the little bakery next to the college and buy myself three little savory cheese pastries to start my day (I’m preggers, im allowed). Over the past few weeks I’ve noticed a new cake in the glass display at the bakery that provoked in me a indistinct memory. The third time I saw the cake it hit me. It reminded me of a cake my mom used to make when I was a child; the memory was so faint though that I was thought that I was making it up. One call to my mom and the issue was solved. She used to make a cake just like the one I had described from the glass display, and she confirmed how much I used to love it. I asked the guy behind the display what the name of the cake is. He said, kadaif and vanilla cream cake. I said, really, that’s it? No fancy name like Napoleon or Black Forest cake. No, he replied-what you see is what you get.  In light... 
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