I tossed & turned last night, somewhere half way between sleep & wake. Obsessing & dreaming about how I was going to enlighten you with my pavlovas & convey their magic through the use of the written word. I was brilliant, well spoken, & had a delicious vocabulary to impress you with. You would have been impressed with my ability to articulate their beauty in a seamless fashion.
I can’t remember a damn word.
It would appear as if I’m only competent when I sleep. & then it becomes a question of “am I actually competent, or does my subconscious just think I am?”
I suppose we will never know.
It’s a pavlova. By all rights, it really shouldn’t be all that interesting. I mean, it’s meringue. I never understood what the fuss was with meringues. They’re basically just crunchy, chewy sugar. & yet…. in pastry shops they always look so exquisite. Big, cloud like formations that come in gorgeous colours. I wonder whoever thought them up.
I’ve also come to understand that pavlovas were originally made for a Russian ballerina by the name of Anna Pavlova. Would you buy it if I said that my little pavlovas look like the frilly skirts that ballerinas wear? Maybe that’s trying to stretch it a bit too far.
I did try to do the dessert justice though… A delicate balance between black cherries & a sweet amaretto cream.
They are what they are & I like them as is. Try ’em & let me know what you think. Continue reading