June 6, 2011

A story about chocolate, not pasta. Finally.

Apparently my subconscious is concerned that I might get too slim after doing two yoga classes this weekend. It (the subconscious) just pried a snackwiched tuna, onion, mayo, cheese toast out of poor Mark’s hands for breakfast and now just stuffed the forth piece of Lindt chocolate into my mouth for lunch as I was so so hungry and the way to the fridge to get my proper lunch just too far. It might be this time of the month or it might just be pure laziness that I can’t get off my chair next to my heater and have to therefore take any food that comes my way. Either way even for my standards it has not been a healthy start in the week. I usually try to live by my Mum’s rule of ‘I’m not going to ruin my figure with junk.’ She will say that and put a really nice chocolate truffle in her mouth. When I say try, I mean I will eat the chocolate truffle and the Bar One too.

So this weekend started nicely when my usual Cassis weekend treat came along a bit early. I had to buy our landlord a little birthday cake and thought my stomach might get very confused if I walked into Cassis without it having any of the benefits. Anyone who has seen any House, Grey’s Anatomy or General Hospital ever knows a confused stomach is not a good thing and could lead to serious complications. One vanilla and one coconut macaroon please! Just to be on the safe side...
By any standard I think Cassis can be immediately classified as a non-junky, it’s –worth-that-your-jeans-feel-too-tight-now treat. Until I went to the new market on Hope Street on Saturday morning and found the Vanilla Orchid lady aka Salszari.

I was instantly sold on the concept to chop up precious truffles, put them in pretty china bowls and have people try as many as they want to without judgment. That’s called good customer service. So I started trying, yet was strongly resistant to buy some, till I had a piece of the salty caramel. Why has no ever given me salty caramel before??

Transporting truffles in a huge, overly crowded bag is always a challenge. No wonder people at Haas were laughing at me when later I had to pick up my truffles from the bottom of my bag where they had rolled to. It may have been the fact that I spoke to them like I would speak to a wounded kitten.

I just managed to take this picture before devouring them as I thought the little eatable pearly bits were too pretty not to share. But as you can imagine, afterwards their supermodel career was short lived.
Even just writing this, I put the Lindt chocolate down. The comparison is just too sad. Next on my list to try is this the following, which was described on their website:

“As many of us dream, few to experience - the spirit on a tropical island. The flavours of this chocolate; a fusion of white chocolate, Malibu and pineapple, may help to take you there if you let your senses go.”

It is followed by a ‘warning’ that it contains alcohol, which is good to know, because it gives an even better reason to eat it for me - have I admitted to the fact that I am a huge fan of Malibu, the uncoolest drink ever? It may also keep away the underaged teenagers in my family who may otherwise go crazy over it, as that particular flavour is called Twilight. Though tropical island sounds more like honeymoon, which we all know doesn’t happen in Twilight, but in Breaking Dawn...

I think I spend too much time with my family for me to know this much.

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