Ryan's boss and his family held a holiday party for the 3rd Medical Battalion. There was a gift exchange for anyone who wanted to participate, and we were informed that this party was traditionally a dessert schmörgåbord. Isabelle, wife of the boss, is from Germany and LOVES to bake. She let me know that many of the desserts would be traditional German treats, but that she is always looking for new things to try. Dessert is my favorite part of the meal, so a dinner party comprised ENTIRELY of desserts sounded like Christmas come early.
We entered the house and it was like that scene from "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" where they enter the room in which everything is eatable. Edible. "I mean, you can eat almost everything." Chocolates, cookies, cakes, pies, puddings, biscottis, tartes, biscuits, fudge, marshmallows dipped in both white and dark chocolate...and the types of desserts went on and on. I don't even remember all the tasty treats that were present, and I certainly wasn't able to sample everything. I reached my carrying capacity for confections rapidly, making me wish the younger, more sugar-tolerant version of me could attend this party instead of old, crusty me.
Before we all "dug in" to the feast, our host made an announcement to welcome everyone and to let us know that everything we saw was made from scratch, by hand, or otherwise fashioned from pure elbow grease. None of the desserts were made at the store. Furthermore, we learned that Isabelle had been working on this spread for over two weeks. The boss asked only two things of us: 1) if we liked something, let Isabelle know, and 2) if we didn't like something, we should shut-up about it. With that, we grabbed plates that seemed inadequate for all the choices, and hoped our waistlines wouldn't suffer too terribly.
The most unfortunate thing for you all is that I didn't bring my camera. Ryan took one photo of the first table we saw, but even that doesn't capture the array of sweetness. Try to imagine this table plus three others of the same size completely covered with pastries and sweet nibbles, all different, and then you might approach something closer to the real population of desserts.
Also, Isabelle took the time to label everything. For a couple of plates, I was tempted to turn the label over and write "for Erin," but I played nice.
I never thought the day would come when the idea of eating one more dessert would cause my body to rebel; today was that day. Who would have thought that if you try to make (very very rich) dessert into a meal, that insulin has a way of fighting back. It was truly delicious, but even taking one bite of each thing (Ill admit, sometimes two), I was unable to make it through a half of the plate I made. By the end of the party I was seriously craving a hunk of meat or a loaf of bread.
We entered the house and it was like that scene from "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" where they enter the room in which everything is eatable. Edible. "I mean, you can eat almost everything." Chocolates, cookies, cakes, pies, puddings, biscottis, tartes, biscuits, fudge, marshmallows dipped in both white and dark chocolate...and the types of desserts went on and on. I don't even remember all the tasty treats that were present, and I certainly wasn't able to sample everything. I reached my carrying capacity for confections rapidly, making me wish the younger, more sugar-tolerant version of me could attend this party instead of old, crusty me.
Before we all "dug in" to the feast, our host made an announcement to welcome everyone and to let us know that everything we saw was made from scratch, by hand, or otherwise fashioned from pure elbow grease. None of the desserts were made at the store. Furthermore, we learned that Isabelle had been working on this spread for over two weeks. The boss asked only two things of us: 1) if we liked something, let Isabelle know, and 2) if we didn't like something, we should shut-up about it. With that, we grabbed plates that seemed inadequate for all the choices, and hoped our waistlines wouldn't suffer too terribly.
The most unfortunate thing for you all is that I didn't bring my camera. Ryan took one photo of the first table we saw, but even that doesn't capture the array of sweetness. Try to imagine this table plus three others of the same size completely covered with pastries and sweet nibbles, all different, and then you might approach something closer to the real population of desserts.
Also, Isabelle took the time to label everything. For a couple of plates, I was tempted to turn the label over and write "for Erin," but I played nice.
I never thought the day would come when the idea of eating one more dessert would cause my body to rebel; today was that day. Who would have thought that if you try to make (very very rich) dessert into a meal, that insulin has a way of fighting back. It was truly delicious, but even taking one bite of each thing (Ill admit, sometimes two), I was unable to make it through a half of the plate I made. By the end of the party I was seriously craving a hunk of meat or a loaf of bread.
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