I went to a lovely little party the other day ~ had tons of fun, and sang hip hip hooray. There were over 60 different edibles to choose from, exotic (like the hostess), such as fried plantain egg rolls and items I didn't know the names for ~ but that were beautiful and delicious all the same...
I munched from the savory foods section, under a big huge tent. Until a 6 year old fairy named Lily appeared, ready to chat about how she didn't nibble food because she had partaken in too much chocolate eating.
How many pieces did you have? I asked
Then she looked at me, as if I were too dense to deserve an answer, and replied "How do you expect me to know how many pieces I had, when the chocolate was liquid?"
Ahhh yes, she must have had chocolate from the chocolate fountain, I thought...
Then I realized, how over years and years of parties and fancy buffets, I have never once, not once been intrigued by the chocolate fountain.
I would rather stand by the salty stuff.
But then, out of the blue, I walked over to the chocolate fountain, which was adorned with the plumpest strawberries in the world.
And I plunged....
And plunged, and plunged and....
It was good.
It was soooo good.
Not too sweet.
Perfect, and almost warm on my cool plump fruit...
I could feel it all over my lips, and maybe even dripping down my chin...
And then, crazed by the liquid chocolate -
I walked over to an enormous tower of these.
And, I did this, by holding it under the chocolate waterfall...
And then, I did it again... (of course, I did this on a second one, as to not double-dip)
It dripped on my toes and graced the tip of my nose. My green satin shoes felt a plop, plop, ploooop....
A boy watched me, and blushed.
I shrugged my shoulders, and made a face at him as if to say, I'm sorry you have to see this, but I don't really care - and then my secret devilish grin emerged.
I think I even felt horns start to peek out...
I vaguely recall someone giggling at me...
Did I mention it was good?
And, those thin crunchy little pancakes, stacked up in towers... Sigh.
They bewitched me completely, so I -
I fit as many as I could in my giant carpet bag, and then I held a big cup to the chocolate fountain, and filled it, til it was overflowing and running through my fingers, and down my wrist. (perhaps a white lie)
Then, I spotted a HUGE table filled with over 50 desserts, and although I normally would not even be inclined to do this, I walked over to a fruit pie, and plunked my face right into it.
It felt cool and moist and fresh, and I just stayed there for a little while holding my breath, lost in bliss...
That's when I felt someone pull my arms behind my back, and slap handcuffs on me. It was the Sweets Police. I was taken to a buttermilk cupcake cell, and held for three days. Until my Mammie could bake enough cakes to pay for my release.
And, that's where I have been you see...
Okay okay, I didn't plunk my face in the fruit pie or get carted away by the Sweets Police.
But it made for a great story don't you think???
I guess the point of this tale is that - some things never change...
Soooooo, now I want to hear about your salacious dessert tales!!!
Come on, I told, now you tell ~
Or you could just, invent something ;)
ps: To answer the question, that I so mindlessly left out -
About the pancakes - My mom used to make them for us when we were young, but they were not crunchy, and they were rolled, and we called them Swedish Pancakes - I inherited the antique decorative hand press she used to use... But- these (above) were more like Pizelles, which are thin Italian cookies- even though a Filipino Woman made them, and says they are a tradition in her home. So I think, maybe every culture makes a version of them? I think that must be the case ;)