Valentines

chochearts.jpgThe classic combination of chocolate and hazelnut paste, called gianduja in Italian, is my absolute favorite way to enjoy chocolate. It was Invented in Turin, Italy in the middle of the 19th century. Ferrero, one of the most famous brands that manufactures it, sells it as Nutella. In Europe it's as popular as peanut butter is here in the States. I'm addicted to it and spread it on apple slices, crêpes, and sandwiches, where one slice of bread is spread with peanut butter and the other with Nutella.

That was my snack of choice while studying abroad in Europe, where Nutella is sold in little cups. Once emptied, the jars can be used as drinking glasses—I actually ended up building an entire collection in my cupboard. So to come up with a sweet treat recipe for Valentine's Day, I immediately thought of cookies sandwiched together with Nutella.

What better cookie could there be to pair with Nutella than chocolate cookies? These rolled cookies get cut out with fluted heart-shaped cookie cutters in various sizes. The dough is not that difficult to put together and, when rolled out between plastic, is very easy to handle. It also makes for a very tender cookie when no flour is used in rolling.

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candybox.jpgWhen you stumble upon a private chef who bakes intricately designed chocolate boxes in the finest quality ingredients- you know it’s an excellent day.  Chef Connie Mullins knew she was destined be a chef at a very young age.  She started to bake when she was just 5 years old and decorated her first cake at the age of 10. At 12 years old, she began to play around with food and since then, she’s worked in an array of roles within the culinary industry.  “I had an aunt that sewed for Victor Costa,” said Connie, “She really inspired me.  She was a cake artist and baked beautiful wedding cakes- any type of dessert really.”  Her aunt passed down a book to her from the School of Wilton and that’s how Connie learned to decorate cakes.  She decorated them all through high school and sold them on the side.

And, how did Chef Connie Bakes come to be?  After cooking on her own for so long, Connie enrolled in professional classes at El Centro college in the food and hospitality program.  “At that time, there wasn’t a bakery pastry program,” she said, “But, while I was there, one was approved and I went back through the baking and pastry program as well.”  In fact, it was through this program, that Connie was able to choose her favorite dish she’s ever made. “It was vanilla puddin’ and I started making it in 1973 for my brother,” she said, “When I did enter culinary school and was admitted into the pastry program, it was one of the recipes the chef went over that all pastry chef’s must learn how to master: pastry cream (because it’s used throughout the bake shop).  And, it’s funny because what I had always called my vanilla pudding had been pastry cream all along- and I’d been making it since I was 12 years old just by feel and sight!”

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heart.jpgI have a distinct memory of being eight years old at my mother’s friend’s pool party. They were pretty great parties, all actors, writers and cops. My sister and I had our feet dangling in the Jacuzzi and someone came up to us and said, “You girls look so jaded.”

“What does jaded mean?” I asked him.

“You’ve been there and done that,” he said.

“We are not jaded,” I replied attitudinally. “We’re only 8!”

I guess he was trying to be funny, but the description felt like a death sentence. Although somewhere along the line of being a teenager, I did feel a little jaded. I remember wandering around blank eyed through high school completely bored by the guys I was dating. I wouldn’t even call it dating, it was always ‘hanging out.’

It wasn’t until I got to New York that a sense of romanticism flowed through me. I think I went a little overboard with it and Jeff caught me at exactly the right time to sweep me off my feet, which, in the end, also ended up feeling like a death sentence. But that’s another story…

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broken-heart.jpgLately it’s been quiet in my place. I’m amazed by how only a week can feel like a lifetime after ending a half-year relationship with the person I was convinced I loved. The red pillow on the other side of my memory foam mattress hasn't been touched, the non-slam toilet seat in my bathroom is permanently up and the only article of clothing that remains folded in my apartment are the green pajama bottoms she borrowed last time she was here.

There is no longer a need for a mutually accepted group to be played on my record console; the more sultry romantic sounds of Elysian Fields, Sergio Mendes & Brasil ’66, Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds soundtrack have been replaced with the more discordant melodies and raucous noises from Joy Division, Igor Stravinksy and Chet Baker. A new tone has prevailed underneath my spacious ceilings, not a tone of vivacious spirit or luminous activity, but one of concord and settled reconciliation. All these lofty words are used to cover up sorrow with a big cheeky grin because now I can expand my mind opposed to my heart. Oh, who am I kidding?

 

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