dawnswann

Posts Tagged ‘Chocolates’

The Badass Biker Gets Taken Down a Notch

In Life Lessons, Monday Review on May 27, 2011 at 4:51 pm

The idyllic scenery of these roads almost negates it's treachery. Almost

So…I will preface this blog from a remote location by saying that Scott was right. I should not have ridden to the bakery. It’s only an eight mile ride– four there and four back. After my ten mile crucible earlier this week, I thought to myself eight miles? pshaw. But I forgot that the four mile stretch in question was made out of volcanos. I had to stop four times up one hill in order to not die of cardiac arrest. Then, on the next hill, I had to get off and walk. This is not badass behavior! My spirit is crippled. But, on the plus side, I’m eating a delicious almond croissant.

The other day I came to this bakery, called the Madrid Bakery, because it was my stepdad’s birthday and I needed a cake.

Wait– let me ask you something. Have you ever read the book “Chocolat?” Its one of my favorites and its about this woman and her daughter who move to a little French town and open a chocolate shop. The woman can tell what kind of chocolate will fix what ails you as soon as you walk into her shop and her chocolate is magical. I read this book years ago while in Cancun so some of the details escape me….but I think she added something Mexican to her recipe, or maybe it was tears. Anyway, I have always wished for a chocolate shop like that to come to magical Framingham. Why not? So the other day after i purchased the chocolate and vanilla ganache cake at this little Spanish patisserie, the woman said that I needed to come back on Thursday, Friday, Saturday or Sunday and try her fresh croissants because they were the best in the world. Naturally I made the connection. A magical shop in which people can cure me with delicious food has arrived! Being pragmatic, I realized that I should ride my bike to negate the calories in the croissant.
“Not a good idea,” said Scott. “it’s all uphill and full of treacherous and windy roads.”
“Oh dear,” said my mother. “I will pray for your safety.”
“you have certainly earned your croissant,” said the little Spanish lady behind the counter when at last I arrived.
She could tell because my face was the color of a bad rash, my hair was sweaty and plastered to my cheeks and I huffed into the shop like I was going to either eat something or blow the house down. So she prescribed an almond croissant for me.
“Next time,” she said, while I handed her my cash, ” you try this.” she pointed to a mysterious, angel sprinkled cake with a name I couldn’t pronounce that looked like the name of a saint. “Its my personal favorite. And every morning before I work, I have a slice.”
I will take her up on that offer. But next time, I will drive.
Now for the ride home.

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Valentine Interlude (To the Tune of Beyond the Sea by Bobby Darin)

In Holidays on February 14, 2011 at 3:18 pm

You might be surprised to learn that I’m no big romantic. I mean, I’m half Italian and I’ve got three kids. The evidence seems to imply otherwise. But in our relationship, Scott’s definitely the romantic. He’s the one who remembers Valentine’s Day before it happens. (Unlike me who is grumbling about having to go to CVS this morning.)He’s the one who drowns strawberries in melted chocolate, plans the romantic dinners, stockpiles ways to keep the romance alive. Sends secret admirer cards in the mail luring me to lunch at my favorite restaurant. Me?  I liked Darcy better after he learned how to slay zombies.

Valentines Day rubs me the wrong way. To me, planned, manufactured romance tastes like eating chalk. I have this friend who had planned on proposing to his girlfriend on Valentine’s Day because she’d told him that was her dream. I laughed because I thought he was joking. I mean, no one outside of the Hallmark and Lifetime channels actually DOES that, right? I could have been kinder; she’d just broken his heart. But, in my opinion, he dodged a bullet with that sap.

Overt romance is for newbies. For beginners. For sissies. It’s for lining the pockets of this capitalist empire. Fly away fat little angel: no sale here.

Real romance can’t be bought at CVS. Real romance shows up in the middle of the night in the form of a sweaty arm splitting the circulation of blood and lymph between your upper and lower halves. And you can’t move it because sleeping arms are much heavier than awake ones. And you know what? You wouldn’t even move it anyway. Because after 15 years of Valentines Days, he still loves you even when he’s sleeping. THAT is romance. And it can’t be bought anywhere.

For what it’s worth, Happy Valentines Day, Scott.  But thank you for loving me all the other days too. I know it can’t always be easy.

PS…Thanks for the chocolates under my pillow.