Some time back in the ’90s, I was the only female on an otherwise all-male trade execution desk for a major brokerage firm. I liked to bake but didn’t have roommates for a time, and I sure didn’t need to eat all that sugary goodness on my own, so I routinely brought my bounty into work to share. Basically, I was the desk mom. One day my boss, who was divorced, was bemoaning how much he missed a dessert his ex-wife would make. He would do ANYTHING to get another helping of this wonderful dessert. He said he would buy me cookbooks if I would only make this dessert. I’m slightly…