The Fortune is in the Cookie:

I don’t consider myself a superstitious person. Unlike my grandmother, I carelessly open umbrellas inside, frolic across a black cat’s path, and throw salt on my food... not over my shoulder.

I now consider myself a born again Superstition.

Let me set the scene.

Its 3am in Boston and despite better judgment, Eldest and Youngest enter a brightly lit and packed Boston Chinese restaurant, Chow Chau, with friends in tow. After a disappointing selection of Chinese treats and the famous dare (which may or may not have given me “the swine flu”) the bill arrives. We all know tradition. The bill is delivered with the perfect amount of fortune cookies for each person. Everyone grabs a cookie, cracks it open to find a fortune patiently waiting for them. The tradition continues as we all go around the table sharing our Confucius words of wisdom. So I do just that. I grab my cookie, thinking in my head that I’ll probably get one that says something to the effect of “I can’t believe you just licked that.”

I open the plastic wrapper. Slowly pull out my cookie. Crack.

Two days later. I got tested for swine flu.

But low and behold a week later it all started to make sense. My boss quit, and with that, a new chef was hired with the promise of real change and a new experience. One of my best girlfriends, Ms. Asian Princess, was returning to the states and residing in Chicago. My crush finally took notice. And Banana Republic was having a sale. Life was good. Really good.

It wasn’t until about a month later, did I tempt the gods again and order Chinese takeout. Once the food came and not being the most patient person, I immediately tore open the bag to find my little treasure. I slipped the cookie out. Crack.

SHIT.

I’m pretty sure my heart skipped a beat.

My mind starts racing. Love. LOVE? I mean, am I ready for this? Will I know? What about the fact that I am 99.9% at work all the time, do I even have time for this? But then again, if you really care about something you make time, right? Besides being a closet romantic, I ‘m also a raging commitaphobic who has some serious communication issues and acts aloof half the time. What if I act like ass and really mess this up? Will I be doomed to be royally alone forever?! I’m in some serious trouble here.

Then I realized my Moo-Shu pork was getting cold and I needed to get a grip. I figured I would take it slow, see what comes along and not think about how my eternal happiness was a stake.

Then it happened. LOVE.

You see; it came out of the blue.

It was a busy Friday night at work and my Executive Chef, The Good German (also known as the Bad German when he’s grumpy) and my new Executive Pastry Chef, Vive la Frenchie, wanted to see me in the office.

SHIT.

They had some news for me. Important news. They were sending me to a class with the one and only Norman Love. Norman Love is one the most talented and successful Chocolatiers in the World. He is no doubt in my top three. I would have the chance to learn from him for three whole days.

I was light headed, had the biggest butterflies in my stomach, and I felt as if I was on cloud 9. This must be Love!

And it was. Three days of class. Everything Chocolate.

Day one: Cakes! We started by building our petite gateaux of confit orange, milk chocolate, sable, chocolate biscuit, raspberry white chocolate crème, the list goes on and on. Large entremets- roasted banana, crème brulee inserts, and caramel mousse…. All built with the best techniques and ingredients.

Day two: molded chocolates. Various ways to decorate your molds, from airbrush, to splatter Pollack painting, swiping, luster dust, and STATIC ELECTRICITY. We create ganaches with the most beautiful textures and at the end of the day unmolded our chocolates to find jems waiting for you to sink your teeth in with the thinnest shell known to man.

Day three: chocolate garnishes. Chocolate roses, creating your own transfer sheets, more airbrush and not to mention the shiniest sexiest glaze you will ever see on a cake. (I mean seriously, you see the reflection of the building in the cake!)

Everyday I was falling deeper and deeper. I just couldn’t stop smiling. When I left class, I felt reenergized and excited about the day. This IS love; the feeling that anything was possible, especially when it came to pastries. Being the silly girl that I am, I automatically assumed it had to be some guy.  But in the end, it was the opportunity of working with one of the most respected pastry chef that I learned it was the love of pastry and what it meant to me that was my fortune. 

So what’s next? I’m not sure, but I’m quite hungry. I think I’ll order some Chinese food…