Apr. 11th, 2009 01:50 pm
Easter is saved!
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muckefuckLast week, I called Pasticcheria Natalina to reserve the cassata I've been dreaming about all these past six weeks of deprivation. "At this point," her boyfriend told me, "we're on a first-come first-served basis. We open at noon on Saturday." Which is how I found myself standing outside their door at 11:30 today as they bustled about filling the cases with ricotta pies, filled chocolate eggs, and candied fruits.
Of course, my resolution is still in effect until tomorrow, which would've made surveying all those sweets a trying experience if not for the out I discovered: Take the most sugary, creamy, indulgent dessert you can imagine, stick a couple pieces of bacon next to it, and suddenly it's "breakfast". Just across the street from the pâtisserie is Taste of Heaven, and we had arrived in plenty of time to grab some brunch. In my case, that was "authentic" (whatever that means) French toast with peach compote and sweetened whipped cream cheese and it was To. Die. Four.
By the time Natalina let us in, there were a half dozen queued behind me, so it was with no small sense of smugness that I strode up to the counter, pointed to one of the gorgeous green marzipan-encased mounds on display, and said, "I'll take one of those." Somehow, despite being a simple exchange of money for goods, it felt like a sort of coup. (Speaking of money, I'm embarrassed to say how much of mine that woman now has, but goodness knows she earned every penny with sweat and strain.) We marched up the street with my holding out my white box like a precious child.
In Fine Spirits was on the same block, and its owned by friends of friends, so we figured it was the least we could do to stick our heads in. I have to say, the amount we dropped on sherry-cask aged Laphroaig would put the cassata's price tage in perspective if not for the fact that a good bottle of single malt will last for months in our house. Now content with that, we brought home a bottle of "apple icewine" from the Canadian Domaine Pinnacle. New concept on us, but quite a pleasing one. Very sweet and fruity, but with a lovely tart taste which keeps that from getting out of hand.
Of course, it would've been unforgivable to stock up on luxury goods for ourselves and completely neglect "![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu's other pet", so we brought him home new sparkly balls (the old ones so worse for wear that they hardly resemble balls any more), some mouse thing with a feathered tail, and jerky treats from the pet store up the street. I think he might've preferred a couple newborn chicks or perhaps a tender baby bunny, but, alas, neither was to be had.
Of course, my resolution is still in effect until tomorrow, which would've made surveying all those sweets a trying experience if not for the out I discovered: Take the most sugary, creamy, indulgent dessert you can imagine, stick a couple pieces of bacon next to it, and suddenly it's "breakfast". Just across the street from the pâtisserie is Taste of Heaven, and we had arrived in plenty of time to grab some brunch. In my case, that was "authentic" (whatever that means) French toast with peach compote and sweetened whipped cream cheese and it was To. Die. Four.
By the time Natalina let us in, there were a half dozen queued behind me, so it was with no small sense of smugness that I strode up to the counter, pointed to one of the gorgeous green marzipan-encased mounds on display, and said, "I'll take one of those." Somehow, despite being a simple exchange of money for goods, it felt like a sort of coup. (Speaking of money, I'm embarrassed to say how much of mine that woman now has, but goodness knows she earned every penny with sweat and strain.) We marched up the street with my holding out my white box like a precious child.
In Fine Spirits was on the same block, and its owned by friends of friends, so we figured it was the least we could do to stick our heads in. I have to say, the amount we dropped on sherry-cask aged Laphroaig would put the cassata's price tage in perspective if not for the fact that a good bottle of single malt will last for months in our house. Now content with that, we brought home a bottle of "apple icewine" from the Canadian Domaine Pinnacle. New concept on us, but quite a pleasing one. Very sweet and fruity, but with a lovely tart taste which keeps that from getting out of hand.
Of course, it would've been unforgivable to stock up on luxury goods for ourselves and completely neglect "
monshu's other pet", so we brought him home new sparkly balls (the old ones so worse for wear that they hardly resemble balls any more), some mouse thing with a feathered tail, and jerky treats from the pet store up the street. I think he might've preferred a couple newborn chicks or perhaps a tender baby bunny, but, alas, neither was to be had.![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Have a happy Easter.