Cayman Islands rum cake: Difference between revisions

{{image|Ugland House|jpg|[[Ugland House]]: home to tens of thousands of helpless little orphan [[SPV]]s}}{{image|Rum cake|jpg|Tortuga is Spanish for Tortoise. Fact.}}{{image|Rum cake close-up|jpg|I mean just look at the ''heft'' of it.}}}}A love letter, written in tortoise honey.

Many people around the world make it their business to deal with [[Cayman Islands]] {{tag|special purpose vehicle}}s. It couldn’t get much more exotic:— High finance, international intrigue, faxes running out of paper at the critical moment and saving Tom Cruise’s bacon;<ref>John Grisham: ''The Firm''. Possible, but highly implausible.</ref> drug-dealing gangsters throwing [[Anti-money laundering|money-launderers]] to the crocs<ref>Ben Affleck in {{fr|Runner Runner}}. Preposterous. There aren’t crocodiles in the [[Cayman Islands]]. {{cayman crocodiles}}

:—And there’s the other half, on the neighbour’s kitchen table!

So, pity the sad cadre of {{tag|London}}-bound [[Mediocre lawyer|lawyers]] who commission [[Cayman]] [[SPV]]s and have to review their salty board minutes<ref>Properly dirty these are. I couldn’t begin to tell you.</ref> — who spend long London evenings staring out into the dank gloom, longing for the exotic spice of island life and wondering what goes on behind the Hacienda frontages of [[Ugland House]], [[George Town]], [[Grand Cayman]].  

Now financiers are partial to absurd boondoggles. We know this: [[gardening leave]]; [[corporate entertainment]]; [[Business day convention|conferences in exotic locales]] — but even they have limits and you, sir, are ''not'' swanning off to the Caribbean just to “check the place out”. Not even for the good of the [[Firm]].<ref>See what I did there?</ref>

No. The closest you will get is when those perma-tanned, randy [[corporate service provider|corporate service providers]], sitting on their deck-chairs in their occasionally inclement paradise send you their annual thank-you for your custom: By time-honoured tradition, they do this by means of an air-mailed Tortuga [[Cayman Islands rum cake]].  

This may seem meagre compensation, but don’t be fooled. Just wait till you ''taste'' that bad boy. Just ''lift'' it: feel the ''heft''. Tortuga rum cakes are ''amazing''. They may arrive looking like they have been pummelled by baggage handlers at every depot across the Florida keys — in fairness they probably have — but the spicy ''wetness''. Like a great, moist, sopping, golden sponge, if you squeezed it, a rivulet of pure, golden nectar would run down your arm.  

 

For a second you will be bodily transported to that sun-kissed, philandering, intermittently-windy [[Cayman Islands|financial utopia]], and then, and ''then'' —

{{sa}}