Expectations
Eat one chocolate, nibble on one cookie, one slice of pie—it’s a downward tumble. Sugar captivates. It takes prisoners, luring them on with “ just another”, “this will be my last.” Soon one cookie won’t suffice, one chocolate seems paltry, and how can you refuse another slice of homemade pie?
Peanuts also exact the same servile deference. Dipping a hand into the bag of peanuts means emerging with a fistful of peanuts. Cracking each shell to reach the nut enhances the pleasure—working for your palette’s delight.
I just received an email invitation to a Christmas open house —with an attachment listing the menu. Reading the list sent me into a delirium of expectation and released me from harboring any false thoughts of dieting that day. The hostess loves to cook and is especially able with luscious cakes and divine cookies. Her fig and Brie cheese reaches a heavenly status.
Cooking exquisite looking desserts isn’t my forte. Over the years I did bake a credible cheesecake —actually a fine cheesecake. Once I started reading nutritional guidelines and what to avoid my cheesecake minus the sugar, real butter, sour cream, and graham crackers lost appeal. Bare bones no sugar cheesecake made from drained tofu doesn’t equate to a culinary highlight.
Once I baked a package marble cake and smeared it with icing from a can. Passable.
Once when Elyse was a freshman in high school she surprised me with a birthday party— for two. My teaching job ended at three and given light traffic I walked in the house at 3:45.
The day of my birthday Elyse arrived home an hour and a half earlier, set the table for two—with birthday plates and napkins. She baked a white cake— and covered it with a milk chocolate frosting. Pink and white striped candles circled around the top.
“It’s tilted to the right,” she said. “I tried to cut it down on the left side so it didn’t sit lopsided, but that made it look as if it would topple.”
We sat down and ate large portions of the almost toppled cake. I think I told her what a wonderful surprise and how perfect the cake turned out.
I’m not sure why I recall the incident as tinged with sadness.
Peanuts also exact the same servile deference. Dipping a hand into the bag of peanuts means emerging with a fistful of peanuts. Cracking each shell to reach the nut enhances the pleasure—working for your palette’s delight.
I just received an email invitation to a Christmas open house —with an attachment listing the menu. Reading the list sent me into a delirium of expectation and released me from harboring any false thoughts of dieting that day. The hostess loves to cook and is especially able with luscious cakes and divine cookies. Her fig and Brie cheese reaches a heavenly status.
Cooking exquisite looking desserts isn’t my forte. Over the years I did bake a credible cheesecake —actually a fine cheesecake. Once I started reading nutritional guidelines and what to avoid my cheesecake minus the sugar, real butter, sour cream, and graham crackers lost appeal. Bare bones no sugar cheesecake made from drained tofu doesn’t equate to a culinary highlight.
Once I baked a package marble cake and smeared it with icing from a can. Passable.
Once when Elyse was a freshman in high school she surprised me with a birthday party— for two. My teaching job ended at three and given light traffic I walked in the house at 3:45.
The day of my birthday Elyse arrived home an hour and a half earlier, set the table for two—with birthday plates and napkins. She baked a white cake— and covered it with a milk chocolate frosting. Pink and white striped candles circled around the top.
“It’s tilted to the right,” she said. “I tried to cut it down on the left side so it didn’t sit lopsided, but that made it look as if it would topple.”
We sat down and ate large portions of the almost toppled cake. I think I told her what a wonderful surprise and how perfect the cake turned out.
I’m not sure why I recall the incident as tinged with sadness.
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