With all the excessive and ridiculous attention I lavished on myself last week, I neglected to show you the cake I made for Neil’s birthday …
Isn’t it gorgeous? First I made the bottom layer, a delicate chocolate mousse, then I added a crispy wafer layer and then I did something to eggs and butter and there was a whisk involved, oh for god’s sake, I have no idea how anybody makes a cake like this. Perhaps the custom made chocolate disc with Patisserie Alexandre written on it was your first clue that I didn’t make this cake. Although I did walk all the way to the bakery and order it, in French, which essentially amounts to the same thing.
Anyway, he ate the whole thing all by himself. I didn’t eat one bite of this marvel of confection. I couldn’t. I mean the poor man had worked his arse off in Canada for two weeks right? Then he spent almost 24 hours in planes, trains and automobiles, on his birthday. Then he was met at the door by a half starved lunatic who yik-yakked at him for 6 hours without taking a breath because she hadn’t had human contact for several days. Then he had to make his own birthday dinner as any other option was too terrifying.
So yes, let him eat cake I said. It is the duty of a good wife to always be sensitive to the needs of her husband.
My town needs a patisserie. Heck every town does.Can you talk to Alexandre about franchising?
Am as of this very minute saving up enough money to fly round trip to France, buy and consume several of those and a large bottle of the French equivalent of Pepto Bismol—and I might want to throw in an additional ticket for my homebound flight, as I probably won’t fit well into one seat (not that I ever do).
Gawd what I would do to have a patisserie within walking distance. Order for us too please, une tarte au citron pour moi s’il te plaît!
your planes trains and automobiles comment here has sent me off on a wild tangent. please indulge me…
i watched a biography of danny davito this weekend and he applied to theatrical school because he wanted to take the make-up course (he was working in his sister’s salon, and wanted to do more than cut hair.) turns out he had to take some acting classes in addition to his make-up class and fell in love with acting.
i love this story b/c it proves how the universe helps us find what we’re supposed to do even if we don’t have a clue. again, this is a complete tangent, but your blog speaks to this truth, i think.
happy birthday to your husband. what a delicious dish he ended up with (and the cake looks yummy too).
I love stories of meandering paths toward career goals. I am always so envious of people who have lived their lives like that, one of the main reasons I’m doing what I’m doing. Thanks Amy!
I love amyg’s story (and her comparison too).
Now that’s a cake worthy of a birthday! Happy one to Neil.
“A Picture is worth a thousand words”, very impressive confection there Madame, and to think that it was ordered in french, and as you well know we are not that easily impressed. I too loved Amy’s comparison, right on. Regards.
Oh, I’m going to remember Amy’s story. We should not hesitate to take a new path, just because it’s unknown. It just might be the path of your lifetime. I will also remember that cake, c’est magnifique!
how did you not taste one teeny tiny bite?
That is amazing….Happy Birthday to Neil….
How do people do that? And within walking distance too.
Did you at least lick the plate?
Happy Belated Birthday, Neil. Welcome back to your lunatic-oops! I mean, darling wife. ;-) You know I love you really, hun.