Saturday, October 1, 2005
Hm, this blog seems to feature food about as often as international adoption. Not sure what that says about me (other than that my jeans get tighter every day). But oh well, since we're in the middle of the big wait for a referral (still expecting to be matched with Funshine at the end of January) and nothing else is happening this week on the adoption front, I'll just go with it. TubaDad came home from his North Carolina biz trip on Thursday (thank god! I was about to start dressing the plants in cute little outfits and talking to them) and brought me a little souvenir, a basket of truffles. I thanked him, of course, and then left them on the table unopened because, well, I thought they were just another pack of airport chocolate and I could leave them in the cupboard or regift them or whatever. (Yes I regift. Don't look askance - you do it too.) But curiosity took over last night so I cracked open the bag thinking I could eat just one and then pawn them off on my dad or something. And I gasped out loud. These were not your ordinary hard little truffles. I was peering into a bag of deep, dark, velvety soft lusciousness. I reverantly reached into the bag and popped one in my mouth and my eyes rolled back in my head. TubaDad was looking at me questioningly, so I gave him one and all he could say was "ohhhhhh." Good Lord people. Have you had these things? And if so, why hasn't anyone mentioned them? They're some kind of French truffle sold by a place called A Southern Season. You North Carolina bloggers could have shared them with the rest of us, couldn't you? And for anyone with a serious chocolate problem (I think that about covers the entire family in California, Pennsylvania, and Texas and probably about 98% of this blog's readers), you do not EVER want to try these. You have been warned.