Answer:
I add lots of flavor and have many layers, but if you get to close I'll make you cry. What am I?
What can't you eat for breakfast?
A fruit on a tree. A tree on a fruit.
The sun bakes them, The hand breaks them, The foot treads them, The mouth tastes them.
Gold in a leather bag, swinging on a tree, money after honey in its time. Ills of a scurvy crew cured by the sea, reason in its season but no rhyme.
What language does a billboard speak?