Here's a shout-out to my main taste-treat testers:
- Alexandra, D.J.'s tween sitter. She always grabs one item, but doesn't take another to go.
- D.J., of course. She's one of my hardest sells, but is brutally honest and happens to have excellent taste.
- My next-door neighbor. Hugo, an older man, really seems to appreciate the treats, though maybe it's my visits he prefers.
- My upstairs neighbor, Michelle, a young mother of two who is very complimentary, but would never say otherwise. I think she likes the idea of them. She is stressed with her new baby, however, since her baby nurse left.
One shot deals:
- Some neighborhood father and his two kids I quasi-know from the neighborhood. I was on my way home one day, armed with a mini slew of French bread; when he asked me to sign an anti-nightclub petition, I gave him one of my loaves. Haven't seen him since.
- D.J.'s friend and her mother. Later, the young, very petite, very cute girl texted me a special thumb's up/OMG message.
- Chef Nola. She told me she shared last week's peach pie with her landlord, which is a good sign, I think, 'cause apparently the week before she wasn't speaking to him.
Other:
- "I don't care much for the stuff."
- "I'm on a diet."
- "I'm not eating sugar," or "You know I don't eat dessert."
- "I can't eat cheese."
- "I live in Brooklyn."
Flukes:
- The class made fun of my most recent Italian bread. Fair enough. My dough never rose, 1/2 of it beoming the shell of the only-so-so calzone, and the other half, the baguette-in-a-circle half I made 'cause I thought I was cool, looked like a piece of ring toss equipment, or a possible hand weight option for use with my Tracy Anderson Method Mat Workout DVD. (Good flavor, though.)
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