When my daughter and I go to King Arthur Flour, our routine is this: I pluck a big baked good off the counter, and she gets a cup of tomato soup. She's never been a dessert person. I don't understand this, but I'll keep her, anyway.
This particular daughter is also my realist - a kid who appreciates accuracy and is quick to clobber any kind of exaggeration. If you want her to pay attention, accept a thing exactly as it is and describe it as such, otherwise you're wasting her time.
During our most recent KAF excursion, something in the bakery case caught my eye. It turned out to be a Bee Sting Cake, or "Bienenstich" in German: two flaky layers of brioche dough sandwiched around a thick but not-too-sweet vanilla cream filling, topped with a honey-almond crunch. I decided to go for it, instead of my usual huge fudge brownie.
You know how sometimes a dessert experience is so good that you're sad when it's over? That's how I felt about this cake. You have to try it, and I'm told it often sells out, so I'll race you.
"That....(dramatic pause)...was the best decision I have ever made in my entire life!" I proclaimed to her as I placed my fork on my empty plate.
"Actually..." she said.
In my post-cake euphoria, I sensed a clobbering ahead.
"...the best decision you ever made...."
Truth bomb approaching.
"...was probably to have kids," she said.
We stared politely at each other for many seconds, her with a level of self-assurance I could not have mustered at age ten.
What could I do? Argue for the cake? She would believe me and tell everyone we know that I adore pastries above all else. Which I do, on most days.
"Well...this cake...is a very close second," I said.
She went back to her soup completely satisfied with this, confident that I'd placed the (only) two great wonders of my life (ever) in their right and true order. Kids and cake. What else does a girl need?
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