Caked up

When you hear the word “cake,” what’s the first thing that comes to mind? For me, it’s a slice of red velvet with cream cheese frosting. In today’s day and age, though, “cake” has developed a new connotation altogether—one associated almost entirely with “ass.” Being “caked up” is a common phrase used to describe a particular, well-endowed body type (especially with the rise of the Brazilian butt lift, or BBL). And with discussions about ass, the topic inevitably turns to dancing— specifically, the act of shaking your ass, otherwise known as twerking.

What we know today as “twerking” originated in Côte D’Ivoire, West Africa as a form of dancing known as Mapouka. The general act of dancing by wiggling and bouncing your butt is very common to West African dancing—it’s not necessarily equivalent to the provocative, Westernized version that we’re used to seeing on our “For You” pages. Mapouka is seen as an expression of joy—it’s something you often see at wedding receptions and other ceremonies. Believe it or not, West African aunties know how to get down when they want to.

Although twerking (like countless other “trends”) originated from and is steeped in Black culture, it has been swiftly and predictably co-opted by... well, everyone. Don’t get me wrong, I understand why. It’s inexplicably, undeniably entertaining to turn on Megan Thee Stallion’s “Cocky AF” or “Jobs” by the City Girls and shake your ass in the mirror. (You’re welcome for the recommendations, by the way.)

To me, twerking is fundamentally an act of taking ownership of your body. Yes, I know how to isolate my hips and my ass. Yes, I look hot. Yes, this music is moving me of its own volition. And yes, I’m falling a little bit more in love with myself. With something this empowering, who wouldn’t want to participate in the celebration of their body?

The issue is not, therefore, with the mass adoption of the dance itself, but rather the optics and respectability politics that many Black people are still subject to. It is by no means a stretch to say that twerking is still considered “ghetto,” even, in many cases, by members of the Black community. Take, for example, Doja Cat, Megan Thee Stallion, Normani, and

Something as trivial as twerking at a party actually has far-reaching implications for how we, as a society, view things that are undeniably “Black.”

Ciara dancing at a Dolce & Gabbana afterparty in August 2021. A video of them went viral (as it should… they killed it)—but with thousands of admiring comments also came a flood of vitriol. Some cringed at their audacity to get down and twerk at such a “fancy event,” while others questioned why Black people as a community continue to allow white respectability politics to rule their understanding of what is considered “appropriate” and “classy.”

This may seem far-fetched, but all of our social constructs surrounding professionalism, decorum, and propriety are inherently shaped by white supremacy. Something as trivial as twerking at a party actually has far-reaching implications for how we, as a society, view things that are undeniably “Black.” It’s the same insidious principle that permeates countless workforces: job applicants with traditional African and African-American sounding names are less likely to be hired, and natural hairstyles are considered “unkempt.” Lizzo (popstar and twerking aficionado) recently gave a TED Talk on her personal experiences with twerking. Among many insightful

comments about twerking’s inception, she recalled the incident that I like to call MileyGate—Miley Cyrus’s indelible performance at the 2013 VMAs. For many non-Black people and media outlets, it seemed that this was their first introduction to this form of dancing. As Lizzo mentioned, Miley catapulted twerking into the mainstream, not only exposing it to subsequent misrepresentation and distortion, but allowing the media to utterly strip away the influence of Black women—the pioneers of the dance. It wasn’t until Miley’s performance that the Oxford English Dictionary decided to add “twerking” to their lexicon, despite the fact that both the word and the dance had already been around for ages. It’s also damning that Timothy and Theron Thomas, the co-songwriters of Miley’s “We Can’t Stop,” claimed that when providing inspiration for the song, Miley stated, “I want urban. I just want something that just feels Black.”

Since 2013, public perception of twerking has changed entirely. Thanks to the influence of performers like Lizzo, Nicki Minaj, Beyoncé, and the like, twerking has been adopted by a wider community and found an entirely new identity—one that now belongs primarily to TikTokers.

My own frenzied, quarantine-induced TikTok infatuation of 2020 was memorable for several reasons, one of which being my discovery of the infamous “throw it back” challenge. Since then, TikTok has spawned a host of other trends and challenges solely judging how well one can twerk—which, for the record, I’m all for! Seeing other people own their bodies and exert sexual freedom through dance is a win for all of us.

However, the same white respectability politics allow Addison Rae to build her career off of twerking challenges while Lizzo is crucified for twerking to her own song at a basketball game. And Chloë Bailey is criticized for an “overly sexualized” rendition of Nina Simone’s “Feeling Good.” And a group of white girls twerking is seen as a fun, “girls gone wild” type of sentiment while a group of Black girls twerking is perceived as ratchet, promiscuous, and inappropriate. In Lizzo’s infinitely wise words, “I’m not trying to gatekeep, but I’m definitely trying to let you know who built the damn gate.”

The next time you turn on your “bad bitch” Spotify playlist or step into a packed nightclub, remember who paved the way for you to be able to shake your ass in public. “The strippers ... the video vixens ... the church ladies who shout ... the sex workers ... [the] ancestors,” and all the Black women in between are— and will forever be—the pioneers, the blueprint, and the best to ever do it. Ass shaking for all!

Reflections from decades of serving Toronto as bakers

Words and Visuals by Adam Lam

Bakers with half a century of experience discuss their lives in the industry, along with a younger innovator serving luxury French pastries

In February 2021, flickers of candles danced in front of the glass storefront of Etobicoke’s SanRemo Bakery. Over one hundred mourners gathered outside as a police car led a slow convoy of black funeral vehicles past the bakery. The hearse carried Natale Bozzo, an Italian immigrant who had served Toronto for decades as a baker until he passed away in February from COVID-19.

Bozzo co-founded SanRemo Bakery in 1969 alongside his brothers. The family worked from 7 am to 8 pm every day of the week for years to make the bakery thrive. Now passed on to Bozzo’s sons, SanRemo is one of the few bakeries in Toronto that still creates nearly all of its products from scratch.

Three years after SanRemo’s founding, a 19-year-old named Maurice Corsi joined Dempster’s Bread in Canada as a machine operator. Over his 50-year-long career, Corsi rose through the ranks to leadership positions, taking over responsibility for the taste of pizza crusts across Canada. He also gained experience in research and development for formulations of pastries distributed widely across grocery stores in Canada. He is now the president of Bakers Touch Consulting where he consults for large operations using his specialization in large-scale pastry formulation.

While the Bozzo family and Corsi worked in baking, fashion designer Fred Naggar returned to Toronto to receive training through George Brown’s culinary program. He would then co-found Delysées in 2013 with his wife—Khariz Naggar—to provide high-end French pastries across the city. The couple introduced innovation to the city by growing a network and using it to import specialty ingredients from France, developing trade secrets in recipes and decoration whilst focusing strongly on customer relations. The couple’s pastries would later be distributed across high-end Toronto grocery stores such as Pusateri’s.

A multi-generational legacy at SanRemo

Robert Bozzo—owner-operator at SanRemo and son of Natale—has worked for the bakery for over 50 years. In an interview with The Strand, Robert recalled how the business survived the pandemic. Casually sitting on top of a metal table in an expansive backroom at the heart of the bakery, the scent of freshly-baked bread hung in the air.

“We’re one of the very few scratch bakeries in Toronto,” said Robert. “[Nearly] everything we make is from scratch, from our custards to our pastry shells to our sponge cakes.”

As Robert noted, SanRemo avoids wholesale by selling pastries directly to the Etobicoke community. Taking the perspective of a SanRemo customer, Robert said: “You work hard doing your job, you earn money for that job, [and] when you go to the store and you give that store your money, you want a quality product for that.”

But COVID-19 was difficult for the family. For the business to survive, the owners had to cut costs by laying off workers, reducing staff from around 240 people to 95. They also had to work with Toronto Public Health to ensure safe operations. In addition, SanRemo invested

in software development so customers could order food online for curbside pickup, with Robert noting that the business spent around $150,000 working with developers to overhaul their website and implement the system.

The loss of their father profoundly affected the Bozzo family and made them re-evaluate the hours they spent at the bakery. “When that happened, we changed our hours to eight to five,” he said, “so eight to nine hours a day instead of 12 hours a day, or 13 hours a day.” The reduced hours have given the family “a little bit more of a life back” beyond the bakery.

The forecast for SanRemo’s future looks positive. Robert estimates that around two to three thousand customers now walk through SanRemo’s doors each day, with sales nearing pre-pandemic levels.

“It's not always about money,” said Robert, reflecting on what drives the family to work at SanRemo. He noted that the work is “worthwhile, when you give the customer the product and they have a smile, and you see they're happy.” He also reflected on the crowds, media coverage, and widespread condolences of the community following news of Natale’s passing.

SanRemo was bustling on the day I visited, with a lengthy line of customers queuing patiently in front of the bakery as I stopped to purchase a slice of rum cake for $3.99 before tax. The slice was the highlight of my evening. Wide-scale affordable pastries across a life in baking

Most grocery stores in Toronto purchase from wholesalers instead of baking from scratch. Corsi discussed the major players behind the most affordable cakes in grocery stores from his experience in commercial baking.

Low prices are the way that commercial bakers differentiate themselves from small business bakers. Canada’s commercial baked goods market is dominated by Bimbo Canada and Weston Foods, according to Corsi, with flatbread firm FGF Brands recently acquiring the latter in October for $1.2 billion. To compete, Corsi noted that low-cost cake providers differentiate with decorations rather than flavour. “A lot of people don't know that when you go [to most grocers] and you order a cake, they're not making that fresh for you,” he said.

Pandemic supply shortages may cause suppliers to raise the prices of low-end cakes, given that the cost of key cake ingredients such as cooking oil and sugar have drastically increased. Corsi noted that suppliers could also reduce costs by laying off workers, investing in new equipment, and experimenting with different formulations.

Growing up, my parents would sometimes buy me a slice of grocery store cake. It wasn’t as good as the other pastries I tried for this article, but it was affordable enough to bring home often. I appreciated the thoughtfulness of it, even when the slices were more whipped cream than cake.

Innovation in the high-end brand of French pastries

High-end grocery stores like Pusateri’s and McEwan provide cakes at premium prices, using a different strategy than Loblaws and Metro. Delysées is one of Toronto’s most prominent cake suppliers for these high-end stores.

Before 2020, Delysées focused on sales to distributors, which included catering companies, airlines, hotels, and weddings. That left Delysées vulnerable at the start of the pandemic, which shuttered most of the bakery’s major clients and grounded operations at Delysées to a near-halt. “We had to lay off our entire team, which was the hardest thing to do, ever,” said Fred Naggar.

Khariz focused on creating a website for Delysées, which it had lacked as most of its business was from word-of-mouth. To help the business survive, Fred recalled, “I became the driver instead of a Creative Director. I was driving around Toronto, [and] all the way up to Newmarket, to deliver $39 boxes of croissants to our clients.”

Business grew as “people really like getting croissant delivery at home during the pandemic.” The couple expanded delivery to include macarons and cakes, while Fred delivered the pastries and Khariz managed the business. The shift to online selling “saved our company,” recalled Fred. Ten months after the start of the pandemic, Delysées began hiring again.

Delysées differentiates itself by creating recipes that put a unique spin on traditional French recipes, with special ingredients sourced directly from France. “There’s a lot of trade secrets,” said Fred. “It could be colours, it could be a paste that you just cannot find here, period.” He also said that even the chocolate is imported, bought through special purchasing agreements often forged through connections with European distributors at trade shows.

Fred asserts that customers should give higher-end pastries a chance versus typical brands of pastries. “People will … always remember [a] good dessert or bad dessert. They'll always remember,” he said. “And mediocre desserts, or desserts for the mass, let's say, [don’t] impress people anymore.” A perfect dessert, perfectly packaged, makes a positive impression, said Fred, and a conversation piece for every party goer.

Delysées provided a complimentary Rocher, valued at $8.95 before tax. The taste was excellent, and I thought it would make a nice gift—the packaging looked premium, with the pastry having a smooth texture and taste.

Each baking professional interviewed by The Strand has dedicated their lives to serving Toronto with their craft. A common thread across each perspective is the willingness of the bakers to work long hours with high standards for their profession, with a drive behind their actions beyond profitability.