To survive a deadly cancer, author Ida Harris had to give up her sweet tooth. It’s been an identity-shaking adjustment

A diabetic at a dessert show: I know it sounds like a terrible joke, the most exquisite torture or, at the very least, a bad idea. But there I was at Sweet Fest in Atlanta, rumored to be the sweetest day the city had ever seen.

I strolled slowly by dessert display after display: decadent banana puddings; strawberry-stuffed muffins; brownies in shades of blonde, velvet and the darkest chocolate. I lusted after every sugar cookie, ice cream scoop and candied apple. But nothing quite piqued my interest like the bread puddings made by small, home-based bakeries.