Magically Delicious

Yep, that pretty much sums up my life this week thanks to my recent employ at a gourmet, hand-crafted chocolate retail shop and its accompanying cafe. I am learning the art of living on coffee and chocolates, styling my hair to fit beneath a "bistro hat," and muscling my clammy hands into plastic gloves.

Our little shop is a dreamy sort of venue, located on Main Street in a charming New England downtown. From our vantage on the corner of the block, there are vignettes of the well-kept store fronts of other cafes, specialty shops, and assorted purveyors of local charm. As evening settles and business winds down, the world outside takes on the faint glow of the street lamps and the cozy lighting of little bistros. The pop standards wafting in the atmosphere of the store add to the 1940s aura encircling the premises.

In between my Katharine Hepburn-infused day dreams, I make any variety of stupid mistakes and constantly apologize for my utter lack of chocolate and/or espresso know-how. An ideal espresso pull lasts 18-25 seconds. Mine is about 2/3 of perfection, clocking in at 12 seconds. An eclair dipped in chocolate should be allowed sufficient time to drip so that there aren't little chocolate pools and tentacles all over the pastry. My fourth attempt was...close.

I realize the patience I possess in dealing with myself when I pipe a cannoli full of ricotta and sugar, dip it in pistachios, drizzle it in chocolate, and consume the confection. In an epiphany, I know that there is a God and that he loves me enough to make even the consumption of food such a glorious experience. So, perhaps it's not magically delicious. Providentially, divinely, generously delicious may be the more appropriate term.