This pretty much sums it up – the mood I’ve been in as of late. And I know it’s from my recent ‘transition’ out of the performing arts (I’m just not as busy anymore…too much free time, my brain is pretty much freaking out). The grey and damp days also lend to feelings of melancholy and moroseness. What to do? Simple – head down to the local (award winning) bakery for some ‘Carbo Therapy’!
It was a chilly and rainy Saturday morn. What IS it about cold weather that makes one’s stomach growl and yearn for carbs like crazy? I decided I did not want the usual, soupy-standard type of carb for my breakfast – a pre-packaged bag of porridgy oatmeal. Blech. On this morning, it just WOULD…NOT…DO. Living in the city, I am blessed in that I am located so close to many an amazing food establishment. One of them just happens to be the award winning Freeport Bakery, purveyor of some of the finest pastries outside of France…and thus, my destination was set.
As I entered through their doors, the wafting aromas of yeasty breads, vanilla, cocoa, caramel, and cinnamon filled my nose. “Yes, yes“, I told myself. “This would indeed be the cure for what’s ailing me….aaaaaaah.” And although I could have purchased about half of their case and not thought twice about it, I exercised restraint and only purchased four goodies – two for me and two for my guy. For myself: a chocolate brioche and a ‘custard wheel’. For my guy: two muffins – a chocolate-banana and a blueberry. I sped home with the giddy anticipation of consuming all of this carbolicious goodness.
BRIOCHE….oh, how I could wax poetic on you for hours on end. But I shan’t – so here’s the condensed version: brioche is one of the most delectable pastries one can enjoy. A bread of obvious French origin, it has a very high egg and butter content, which gives it a rich and tender consistency. The addition of an egg wash after proofing helps to give it its signature dark and flaky crust. And this particular brioche I had purchased for myself was filled with decadent semisweet chocolate chunks. Pure carby, chocolate love…LOVE, I tell you!
And then…there was the ‘custard wheel’. Like baked, spiral, French toast tasting kind of treat. The custard was baked deep within its flaky layers and was perfectly spiced with cinnamon and adorned with the most succulent golden raisins. This was the perfect pastry for ‘dunking’. Dunking was what my grandmother always called it – the fine art of submerging the pastry into milk, soaking up the creamy goodness in to every little nook and cranny. I’d decided that this must happen…I must dunk. But not into any ordinary milk, nooooo, no, no. Organic half and half….warmed a la stovetop….with sugar….AND cinnamon. With a cinnamon stick to boot. Ha!
It absolutely did the trick. Carbs…and chocolate….and cream….with cinnamon. I was no longer ‘blah’….I was transported to my happy place. And a nap on the couch shortly after consumption (sorry for the snoring, sweetie)…as visions of sugared milk and bread danced in my head. It was outrageously delicious and decadent. And you know what? I’m still having dreams of it an entire week later. It’s the simple things sometimes – milk and bread – that give us the sweetest satisfaction. And a cure for what ails us.