My contribution, Grandma Piggyback's Brownie Pie, was frankly only so-so (though Chef did ask for another large piece to go), and I had a bitch of a time making a nice looking slice. The restaurant lifer brought some kind of sandwich cookie with caramel filling that someone else made for him (what-the-?!), and though people raved, I still haven't tried mine yet. Monique looked so pretty and fresh in her street clothes, and she made a Haitian pudding with crackers, sugar, buttermilk, and fruit, which was actually very good, though not the most attractive color. The super cool bakery couple never showed, and I think we were all kinda disappointed.
Before the tasting, we talked about our plans post class, and the soon-to-be-divorcee, who arrived with no International offering, received her own personal Chef-over, a tough-love encounter similar to the one I'd gotten last week. I do hope she heeds Chef's words, though, which seemed to be spot-on, and the whole scenario reminded me of the Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Rabbit Hole. Though I did not love this play, I often think about the question it raised, which is: Under whatever duress you find yourself, could you dare to imagine living your same life...differently?
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