Funky Tea, Oh Funky Tea... Why Ya Gotta Be So Gross?

I need to get something off of my chest before we proceed with our soon to be very serious relationship.

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I am an absolute WHORE for tea. Hot tea, cold tea, whatever tea. Add sugar to it, and I'm begging for it like a damn puppydog. I dream about tea at night, I lust over it whilst awake. I thought, THOUGHT, that I couldn't find a variety unworthy of my time.

This is no longer the case.
I wrote an ode to the tea that has dampened my my once almost unnatural love for plant leaves.

Lapsang souchong, you've changed me.
I no longer carry the belief that tea should be loved unconditionally.
Why?
Because you are naaaaaaaasty.
Funky.
Certainly not delicious.
How you can be related in any form to my favorite jasmine scented green tea pearls will forever confound me.
I implore you, why do you taste like ashtrays and dandruff shampoo?
Have you been ill-informed about the proper nuances that you should strive for?
A bouquet of campfire and charred tobacco is entirely unpleasant, even to a girl who likes cheese that smells of socks, according to my 7 year old.
Prejudice runs rampant as I assume everyone that likes you must be culinarily retarded.
Perhaps your fans huffed an excess of gasoline.
You are the beverage equivalent.
You will forever inspire mouth vomit when I recall our time together...
Repugnant.
Poor funky tea.
You will never know my love.

Fini.

Don't Judge.

To the uninitiated, I could see why you would assume I had some issues. I stay up all night long, doing god knows what, only to come home with rings of white powder lining my nostrils (not to mention the white hand prints on my pants, the dusting of fine white powder on my shoes, in my hair, etc...). Yes, I see your point. I have a problem. A huge problem, in fact. I'm addicted to carbs. *hangs head in shame* The only difference between me and the people so erroneously hooked on the "other" white powder, the less fun one, is that skinny is certainly not a side effect of my drug of choice. This is a good thing if you ask me. I'm quite proud of my cornbread-fed, super-stacked bodaciousness. And I shall continue to feed its insatiable desire for all things sugary and delicious. Call me whatever you want, just don't call me a quitter. These were damn delicious and contributed significantly to my thighs, as I'm pretty sure anything caramelized goes to the leg region. Any who, I present to you, my nonexistent readers, some totally bitchin' cupcakes. Honey Tangerine-Meyer Lemon Jaconde Soaked in Caramelized Sour Citrus Vanilla Bean Syrup, Dipped in Vanilla Infused Sugar and Topped with Bruleed Meyer Lemons. These are a recipe I developed for the vegetarian-kosher restaurant I currently work at, so I'll post the recipe when I quit and move. Hahaha. If you REALLY want it, leave a comment with your email address and I might just send it to ya. Until then, feel free to gaze lustfully at my mad photo skillzzzz. I would please like to point out that I am a real, live pastry chef working real, live pastry chef hours. I get off at 6am. I work in the dark. Or in florescent lighting, which may as well be the dark as far as I'm concerned. Pffft. So don't make fun. Here you go.

DAMN IT! I told you not to mock it. I know you re saying snarky comments behind its back. I assure you, it was beautifully complex and had a wonderful personality. So, whatever. I'm a terrible photographer. I apologize. Sigh.

Let's Just Get This Over With... Shall We?

As terrifyingly physically ill as writing an introductory blog makes me, I suppose its necessary. Unfortunately. So I shall make it short and sweet. Or maybe not so sweet, who knows. I guess we'll just have to see how it goes, huh?
The basics are certainly in order here.There are things you should probably know... Such as my occupation (pastry chef), hair color(its black... cause that's the way I was made), and perhaps my distaste for unadorned toenails. I take a proper afternoon tea at promptly 3pm everyday and I enjoy heavy reading (not entirely unlike heavy petting, which I also thoroughly enjoy). I have an impressive collection of barrettes, not to be outdone by my vast array of mismatched bone china and various animal and vegetable shaped teapots. I am married to a man that, despite being one, is the most amazing person on the face of the planet. He is also quite foxy. We have 2 babies, one of whom is almost 8 and the other is almost 2. My life is hectic, beautiful, crazy and sometimes stressful, but I love every second. Well, except for 6 am, which just so happens to be the time that I am ALMOST done at work and have to wash the dishes and clean up the righteous mess I have made during my culinary endeavors. 6 am can rightfully bite it.
And there you go. We are properly introduced.
I'm sure we will all get on beautifully.
Expect great things from me in the near future, such as terribly lit photographs of the gorgeous pastries I make every night, and hilarious stories about being a cocky, delightful woman of epic proportions... If you mean epic as in I think far to much of myself (and I certainly do), then yes, epic is entirely the right phrase. So, keep reading. I'm sure to delight you. I hate goodbyes, so I'm inclined to just quit typing.
Like so.