Maybe you didn’t receive my last letter, so I will text you this one. In big. bold. letters.
HURRY UP ALREADY!
It’s still snowing in Pothole, Ohio
When Chefboy came home from his first baking class this quarter, he went on and on about how much he liked his baking Professor, and that she demanded a lot from them, and he really liked that.
I had this picture in my mind of what Professor Betsy would look like.
She would be blond, about 38, and plumpish.
‘Cause, reeaaaally!…who assumes that pastry chef’s are a size zero?
And we all know what they say about people who assume.
This past weekend the boy got me into a community pastry class, at Zane State.
I was excited.
A day with the boy.
A day to see him in his world.
Saturday, I learned a few new things.
I learned that pastry chef’s can indeed be a size zero.
I learned that some pastry doughs are creamed.
And some pastry doughs call for this much butter.
Hey Paula, I think Betsy has you beat!
I learned that poached pears taste better if you use a cinnamon stick.
And it is important to chill your filling frangipane before you add pears.
I learned that college students are the same everywhere.
That leeks, sour cream and goat cheese are great together.
Especially when it is wrapped on all sides with dough made with one pound of butter!
I learned that I’m not as artistic as many others in the room, and that you have to share the strawberries.
That it is ok to snitch one or 20 when no one is looking.
I learned that Professor Betsy also has a business called Sweet Dolce.
But most importantly, I enjoyed the day with my boy.
Thanks, son, for such a wonderful time.
I love you more than you’ll ever, ever, ever know.