Line may not be steep enough…


Source: Jessica Hagy, Thisisindexed.com – Self-Medication for Anxiety.

What’s better than this? (NADT)

It’s 3:12 pm. I’m in the middle of a meeting.  I sneak a peak at my emails…it’s Christie: “looks like this would be a hit…” (She’s thinking Pavlov’s Dog)

She attaches a link for Peach Cobbler Cheesecake.

I tuck my phone out of sight under the conference table and click the link. It springs open on the photo.

And for the next 3 hours:

Thought Spiral! Peaches, Cream Cheese, Golden Graham Crust, Butter, and more.

Rating: Can’t stop at 2 servings!


Notes: (1) Inspiration: Thank you Christie. (2) Photo: Susan; Baker: Susan. Thank you! (3) “NADT”: Not a Damn Thing!

Oh my, I say

It is the season of the meruňka—apricot time. It’s unclear when, exactly, she had time to make the dough for the little pillows of these dumplings, when she managed to buy the apricots… She pours melted butter over the ivory lumps in our shallow soup plates, then a brief snowstorm of sugar and crumbled white cheese, dry and salty. We pierce the puffery of the dough with big dessert spoons. Out comes the yellow-orange fruit, melting from the dumpling’s creamy white, like a perfectly coddled egg. Oh my, I say. They both beam at me. You see, you see, Anna says, as if I have finally seen the light she keeps trying to show me. My pleasure is proof that, in spite of everything I get wrong, maybe I’m learning after all what matters in life.

Patricia HamplThe Art of the Wasted Day (Published April 17, 2018)


Notes:

The Fixer

It doesn’t matter what time of day. My digestif after scrambled eggs at breakfast. A satisfying and necessary fulfiller after lunch. A smooth finisher after dinner. A soothing pre-bed, night time snack. And of course, that something-something between meals.

There it is.

Mint-Chocolate Chip Gelato.

I’m in line at the check-out counter at Palmer’s Market, gripping four (4) cylindrical containers of Talenti Gelato, two pints in each hand. The ice crystals cool the palm of my hand, and I wonder how long it took to ship this gelato from some quaint dairy farm in Southern Italy. A farm that’s been in the same family for hundreds of years. Farm-fresh from cow to these hard plastic cylinders to the freezer at Palmer’s Market, with all of the hand made manufacturing processes in-between. (Gelato, gelato, I find myself repeating gelato and liking it, especially the finish. My lips form an “o” like “o” isn’t this “o” so wonderful).

I move up in line, gently setting the gelatos down on the conveyor. They slide forward.

[Read more…]

This is why I refused to die

Toward the end of the evening, Dominick ceremoniously brought out his glorious special dessert, which he makes every year for the party, a mound of croquembouche: pastry cream–stuffed profiteroles piled high into a cone-like mound and linked with crunchy strands of caramel. My mother was the only other person I knew who ever made them (every Halloween, while most kids got Snickers and jelly beans from the neighbors, my mom made croquembouche, and that’s what she passed out to the small ghosts and princesses and aliens who knocked on her apartment door). As Dominick approached with the tray, my mom took one of the doughy balls very carefully with her left hand—her right hand and most of her right side were basically still useless at this point—and bit into it. I remember the look on her face as the taste resonated, and I watched her lick a dab of the custard that had settled on her upper lip. Our eyes met and, although she didn’t utter a word, I knew what she was saying to me: This is why I refused to die.

~ Peter Gethers, My Mother’s Kitchen: Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, and the Meaning of Life 


Photo: Mary Mary Culinary with Croquembouche (Caramel glazed pate a choux filled with passion fruit curd and vanilla pastry cream)

Too good to eat (almost)

desert-red-fruit

When does food cross the line and become art?

Probably when it looks as amazing as these glass-finish cakes created by Russian bakery artist, Olga Noskovaru.

Don’t miss her dessert wonders at Contemporist or at her Instagram site here: olganoskovaa.


Source: Contemporist

 

 

What was the last time someone’s touch made you quiver with delight?

chocolate

  • Amstell: What was the last time someone’s touch made you quiver with delight?
  • Björk: I ate a piece of chocolate on the way here… Does that count….? That was a good chocolate.
  • Amstell: …Okay….I’d rather it be someone who touched you…. and that made you quiver.
  • Björk: …It can’t be chocolate? It has to be a person?
  • Amstell: *sighs* …Ideally.
  • Björk: I’m just trying to learn the rules of the game.

~ Simon Amstell interviews Björk. Full interview here: Popworld interviews Björk


Notes:

 

Come on. 30 seconds minimum.

cookie-drop-edible-funny


Source: NY Times Magazine. At What Point Does a Dropped Cooke Become Inedible?

 

me me me me me me

chocolate-chip-cookies

A couple of years ago my sister Judy and I were each given a box of truffles. The tiny print said two pieces contained 310 calories and there were six pieces in each box. We were seating in the bus heading downtown, quietly downing our calculations.  Judy was dividing by two and I was multiplying by three.  When she realized what I was doing, a look came over her face that was hard to describe. “I lost all hope for you,” she says now. The difference between us could not have been more clearly defined at that moment.  There are people who can eat one piece of chocolate, one piece of cake, drink one glass of wine.  There are even people who smoke one or two cigarettes a week. And then there are people for whom one of anything is not even an option.

~ Abigail Thomas, Thinking About Memoir


Photo: jaimejustelaphoto

 

Belly Up: Tiramisu pistache au café sucré


Thank you Eclecticity Light. Don’t miss other wonders at Eclecticity Light including The Best Thing For Being Sad.

%d bloggers like this: