I figured I could make a king cake. I figured I should make a king cake. Being from Mobile, Ala., the home of the first Mardi Gras celebration in America (not New Orleans, Mobilians are sensitive about that), I thought it’d only be right that I tried once, at least. Maybe it’d be on par with a local Louisiana bakery? The bar was high according to my father. But at the very least it’d be homemade by me and there are points for that, and I could always blame a screw-up on the recipe. I’d bring it in to work, because what did I need with a bunch of king cake at home. I’d be an authority on king cakes.