Skip to main content

Something Very Good and Very Bad Happened Today

Something very good and very bad happened today. And they were the same thing. How can such a thing be, you ask. Something is either very good or very bad and generally, it is impossible for it to be both at the same thing. It would be like a sloth Hitler or like... like... a charity for orphan immigrants championed by Donald Trump. Generally, when bad and good  try to exist in the same space, it ends in some sort of Star Trek-esque parallel universe implosion scenario. And yet, yet, sitting in the bakery cabinet at Metro today, there was something very bad and very good existing in the same small, tart-shaped package.

Have you ever had Portugese custard tarts? No? If not, you have no idea what I am talking about. I insist that you venture down to any store which has these items and immediately purchase one. Then, buy more. Because likely, unless you have no soul, you will want more. If you haven't found a place where you can buy them, you need to find a recipe and make them and then be happy because you have an entire dozen or two to eat once you have realized how fantastic these things are.

Years ago, a friend of my ex-husband's introduced me to these heavenly things. I had one. Then another, then another. See, you couldn't BUY them where I was living. And they are like crack (I think that's what they put on top of them to give them that nice, addictive brown color). I had one and was hooked.

We kept visiting this friend. My ex did it because he genuinely liked this person. I did it because of the tarts. My consumption of them (and, subsequently, my waistline) grew by leaps and bounds. Basically, I became some sort of custard-tart-eating zombie. Then, the divorce and the no tarts. I went through withdrawal but after a while, I was good.

Well, today I found them. And bought six. My husband, who I love dearly, got to eat one. The rest are being stored in my fridge but are going to be consumed with terrifying swiftness. God help my children if they get in the way when I do. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why I Hate Laundry: An Open Letter to the Universe

You may wonder why, after so many months of silence, I have chosen to make the subject of 2011's first post about laundry. There is a simple explanation for this. I hate laundry. I really, really do. I loathe it with the same depth of hatred that is normally reserved for spiders and white supremacists. I detest it on not one, but many levels. Oh laundry, I hate thee, let me count the ways. 1. For you are never truly, TRULY complete. Even if I choose to streak about my house so that every last stitch makes it into the machine, I never fail to locate a sock, or a shirt or a pair of child-sized pants balled into as small a bundle as possible and hidden somewhere about my house. 2. For I have small children who feel that wearing a vest once, or looking at an old Hallowe'en costume or not feeling like putting clean clothes away makes them dirty, so my baskets overflow with items that should not be there. Of course, having been put into the basket the clean socks that are still fol...

Lessons I Have Learned From My Chinchilla

Having a chinchilla has taught me many things. Not all of them good, not all of them actually useful, but many of them interesting. For those of you who are not aware of what a chinchilla is, it is a small rodent about the same size as a mitten (conveniently). Their fur is very warm and very soft. They have long ears like a rabbit and a long tail like a squirrel. When they are hiding behind your couch in order to surprise you with their presence, it looks very much like a squirrel has climbed into your home (through a broken dryer hose perhaps) and is hiding behind your couch. This is only distressing when you left it shut up in its cage in the basement the night before. Here are some lessons that I have learned from the chinchilla: 1. Even the worst book is still tasty (sorry dear, we can go book shopping when you get home to replace the nibbled volumes) 2. You don't need thumbs to open things (like cage doors). You do need thumbs to open metal clips placed on cage doors. Humans a...

Tassimo Update

So, as many of you know, I have a Tassimo. Sadly, it has been some time since it burbled happily away on my counter, bringing forth steaming hot cups of individual deliciousness. There are several reasons for this. Firstly, my bank account has yelled at me about the need to do adult stuff such as paying bills and buying nourishing food for my children before purchasing those lovely T-discs. Then, just when I had decided that it was time for a green tea in all its grassy goodness, I clicked it on and a new light appeared. It was red the color of bad . The color of broken. The color of no delicious beverages now or ever. I bowed my head and said a silent prayer for the hot boozy bevvies I could no longer enjoy. I looked in my book and found that all it needed was descaling. Easy, right? Just run vinegar, that miracle of miracles through the machine and all would be well. Oh, but this is a Tassimo, right? A fine, pedigreed beverage maker such as this is too good for mere vinegar. In fact...