So I’m at my “office,” minding my own business when the server comes up and hands me a little golden box. “A woman wanted you to have this. I asked if it was drugs,” she said, “It’s a tiny cake from Malaysia.” Never one to take tiny cakes from strangers (or drugs), my first thought was, What have I ever said about Malaysia? Followed by,Have I ever said anything bad about Malaysia?Answer: No. Result: Eat cake!Turns out, the cake-bearing lady in question was none other than Seattle Bon Vivant, ever tricksy and elusive. I’ve yet to meet her, but I covet the life of lollygagging that she enjoys, and I one day hope to grow up to be a lady who lunches and travels as much as she. Her blog is not as prolific as it once was, but then I think she’s converted to Twitter (@bonnevivante) like the rest of us. I’ll put a jar of abbamele in my bag just in case to return the favor next time, knowing her love of all things confiture. (Abbamele=greatest thing you could ever put in your mouth.)