There is something about being holed up inside the house, fingers curled around a hot cup of tea for both heat and caffeine, a worn afghan wound around your legs,  while the wind blows wildly outside, slipping through unseen gaps in the windows as snowflakes swirl in hazy late afternoon light . There is something about being all cozy and warm…that made me crave cake. (This is me, not getting skinny.) I wasn’t sure what I wanted, other than something I could dig into while it was warm from the oven. I think what I had in my head was an old memory of a cake, perhaps made by my…