The strange world of fake food, and the strange requests of an almost four year old

The dreams of a child - our child, at least - are beautifully modest. All P wants for her birthday is a toy cheesecake. For Christmas all she wanted was some tights, a new water bottle, and some tiny toy dishes. She got all of those things, and some other stuff too, but her favourite gift was the tiny toy dishes. That particular request was, I think, inspired by the Elf on the Shelf book:

'I'll listen to you. Tell me your wishes.

Would you like a game or some tiny toy dishes?'

Maybe the cheesecake is inspired by a lazy rhyme in some other kids' book. Maybe it's because she has been obsessed with cheesecake since she ate some at Thanksgiving - and had some more for breakfast the next day. In fact she has been quite insistent that her birthday cake be an actual cheesecake, so I guess her whole birthday theme is cheesecake. Given the current Disney princess obsession I think we should consider ourselves lucky. It could  be much worse.

The tiny toy dishes were scored for a few dollars from Amazon. A birthday cheesecake is easily made. But a toy cheesecake is surprisingly difficult to procure. P has been very clear that it must not have any berries or glaze on top. Which rules out this $34 option, thank goodness. Not that I'm being cheap - we'd be more than happy to spend $34 on some fantastic toy or game. It just seems excessive for a small plastic food item.

This one can be custom made, so I could ask them to take the berries off, but I balked at the price here too.

I'm glad I found it though. I spent a happy, bewildered twenty minutes surfing the incredible range of goods on Fake Food Japan. The specificity ('ginger flavoured grilled pork') and the options (do you want your fake kiwi sliced, diced, peeled or in a yoghurt?) sent me on an intoxicating surf session.

While clearly not aimed at 4 year olds, these aren't just for restaurateurs either.

In case you can't read it, this is a description for a $181 fake cake which says 'why not fool your friends with these good enough to eat replicas pound cakes the next time you are having a dinner party?' Why not, indeed.

After many hours of surfing, I found a woman who crafts clay Christmas ornaments in the shape of cheesecakes, cannolis, and macarons. That's quite a niche. For the princely sum of $10 she is making me a berry-free cheese cake. Goodness knows how she makes any money. Perhaps she does it for the love of the craft.

I'm very happy to be able to give P exactly what she wants for her birthday. And, for the millionth time I wonder, how did any one raise children before the internet?