omg omg omg!

Get ready for some major food geekage.

1) Our Molotov Pineapple truffle rocked the Colorado dinner at the Jame Beard House. My darling Chef Instructor Amy was the dessert goddess ,and asked us to contribute the truffles for the mignardise plate. Feedback is we were a major hit, with people marveling at the complexity of the confection. It's Chef's formula, but I made that batch. From swiping the molds with colored cocoa butter to putting them in their little paper cups - it was all me. Yes, I am proud.

2) Food Network is filming some Challenges down in Centennial over the next week or so. Yesterday's was a chocolate challenge. Jacques Torres (whom I adore - I used to watch his show and in addition to being a magician with chocolate, he is also one of those classy chefs who thinks teaching what he knows to others is a sacred duty) is in town, and has been introduced to

Wen Chocolates through one of Will's contacts. By now, Jacques Torres has probably eaten something that I made. I am swooning.

3) Yesterday morning, three of Duff Goldman's assistants were in the shop, raving about how much they love our stuff. Yes, the folks from Ace of Cakes know who we are. This is one of the few times I've been sad that our kitchen and our shop are not in the same location. If they were, then I would know who they were, unlike our shop maven, Steven, who had absolutely no idea.

It could have been Mary Alice! Or Geoff! We just don't know! AAAARGH! But, they know who we are, and they love our chocolates! Yay!

4) Friday, we are providing the dessert for the IACP dinner hosted by Cook Street School of Fine Cooking, as well as truffles for a few associated parties. I will post photos.

Spring Equinox, aka Ostara

Praise to the Spring
Praise to All Living Things
Praise to the Maiden and the Joy that She brings
Praise to the Earth
Let All the Creatures Now Sing
Hope is Renewed
With the Coming of the Spring!

Ostara, by Lisa Thiel

Driving with the top down

Eyes closed

Face upturned toward the sun

Hair whipping in the wind

Music pounding in my blood

As we drive with the top down

My mind empties

There is nothing but the wind the sun the music the sensation

I am flying sitting still

This

Is today's meditation

It's a dirty job.....

Yesterday we didn't line the square mold
and the brownie batter flowed underneath onto the sheet pan.
It still baked up nicely, but not pretty enough for sale
So we had to eat them
Still warm, intensely chocolately, a touch of coffee,
And a bit fudgy in the center.
So this morning we lined the mold.
The recipe calls for 2 ounces of 'dark liquor of choice'
Today we're using Guiness in the deep chocolate brownies
And Guiness does not come in a 2 ounce bottle.
Which means there are leftovers
Which means that at 10:30 in the morning
Chef and I are having a toast.
Oh, I really hate this job, we say,
smiling. F'n pastry.
When a truffle breaks
or the lavender sea-salt coin cracks
Oh, no, you have to eat it
Oh, nooooo, I hate this job
The words belied by the smile
the closing and fluttering of eyelids
as chocolate and spices dance over the tastebuds.
Pastry.
It's a dirty job, but someone has to do it.
Fortunately, that someone is me.

Ode to a Braw Lassie

It takes guts to play an instrument in public, especially when one isn't very good. Especially when that instrument is the bagpipes.

But there she was, in the park, next to the parking lot, playing her heart out for all to hear. Faint at first, I thought the music was coming from someone's car stereo. It grew steadily louder as we walked along the sidewalk between the lot and the creek. Slow and melancholy, the tune was haunting, at odds with the bright sunny day. I was enjoying it, when suddenly the piper had some trouble and a strangled bleating momentarily derailed the tune. She picked right back up though, and kept going bravely on, despite the unintended squeaks and squawks. I was impressed. Not with her skill, which was spotty, but with her courage and audacity at playing a highly conspicuous and notoriously difficult instrument out in full view and hearing of all passersby. As someone who tends to be invisible, I admire that.

The Indignities Continue....

I ask you, does anything in this case say "ballerina cake for a three-year-old"? Do any of these elegant, decadent, chocolate drenched and sometimes boozy cakes suggest toddlers or ballerinas?

I suppose it's a compliment that parents want a cake from us rather than the grocery store. I suppose it's great that parents are encouraging palate development at a young age. But a ballerina cake? For a toddler? Ack. It's so not what we do, so not what we are known for. Ballerinas. WTF.

I have some ideas. I want it to be pretty, something that won't be a source of shame. Just because she's three doesn't mean she has bad taste.