Winter chills have seeped into town. Bright sun bears down false sustenance, leaving barren trees to tremble in the icy air. Absent of snow though the days may be (for now), the frosty turn of foggy breath and arctic shivers leave no room for doubt that warmth is the number-one desired commodity now. Warmth and comfort. Warmth and comfort and languid bliss. In my short triple-decade stint of existence, I’ve learned that this is best achieved through that most dangerously seductive of avenues: the tummy. And nothing sings joyful choruses like a soft ‘n sweet treat, bite sized to match your tiny indulgences (we shall forget the ease with which infinite bites can be had in one sitting for now). Continue reading
I happily proclaim to be on the Valentine’s-Day-is-silly bandwagon, where one doesn’t need a commercialized “holiday” in which to declare and express his or her love for a significant other, family, or friends etc. Do you not find something kind of… unsettling knowing that you are getting your romance on at the very same time as the retired and wrinkly old couple living next to you? How pleasant.
That said, I will give it some credit for two reasons. As newlyweds, I suppose we are supposed to celebrate the fact that we are together for this first Day of super-duper-Love, and will be for the rest of time (God Willing! Haha). Second, it gives me some confirmation that G will actually get home on time, as opposed to working a little later or stopping by his sister’s place before coming home. On a day that every single sentient being waxes poetic on what plans they have, I can pretty much expect he’ll be home on time if only because he’d feel guilty not to. And since that’s the case, I have the opportunity to actually have an awesome dinner ready precisely when he walks in, without needing to reheat anything etc. Plus, I do enjoy the smell of fresh flowers, so that’s a plus too.
So we had a fabulously divine and decadent dinner for Valentine’s Day. It was the most spectacular spread I had made in a long while, but like most sweet-toothed fiends, I’m going to start with dessert first. Back in the day, G used to swoon over the tiramisu at Cheesecake Factory. I know by critics’ standards it isn’t “the best” because it’s overly creamy, but that was precisely what G drooled over. Crazy Cream Lover. Just give him a big vat of whipped cream and he’ll light up like the New Year’s Eve Ball in Times Square.
He hasn’t had Tiramisu in a long time though, so I figured I’d try it out. Enter in little snafus, stage right. Didn’t have time to go to any grocery stores that I knew would have the right ingredients, so I made do with the following: cream cheese rather than mascarpone, coffee rather than coffee liquor (well, we keep it alcohol-free in these here part, folks), and sponge cake rather than ladyfingers. I know I know, you’re thinking what the heck? But trust me, it was just sooo rich and fluffy and had just enough of the coffee flavor to make even a non-café fan like myself all dreamy. Continue reading