I sat down to polish off the last of the twelve dirt bombs
that I made on Friday. I peeled away
the plastic wrap, admiring the perfectly round dome with its crystal coating of
sugar and cinnamon. This batch of dirt
bombs is the best I’ve ever made. I
boldly considered that these could quite possibly be better than the dirt bombs
at Cottage Street Bakery, which I have credited before as the source of
inspiration for these beauties. I have
even travelled there, as on a pilgrimage, more than once to eat their
bombs. They are good, but mine are
better.
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| Dirt Bombs, Ultimosa Style |
Which got me to thinking that I could open a café that sells
only dirt bombs and coffee. It’s all the
rage, opening restaurants that overspecialize in one item, like toast. Too many
choices can weigh you down. I am still haunted
by my own indecision-making skills as a second-grader, when my friend Sally and
I would ride our bikes to the drugstore to buy candy on Tuesday afternoons, and
I would pace up and down the candy aisle that towered over me, debating whether
I should branch out (PayDay? BabyRuth?),
or go with the tried and true (Butterfinger, Marathon Bar). I like the idea of specialization; it
simplifies the decision making process greatly.
If I want tea and toast, I know just where to go. And it will be The Best.
I could offer dirt bomb variations at my café. There would be the Comfort Food version, with
butter, sugar, and white flour. The
gluten-free version. The
dairy-free. And of course, the Dust Snow
and Coffee Ultimosa Dirt Bomb, with its secret recipe that I will tell you
includes almond meal and buttermilk.
Which got me to thinking about changing ingredients to
classic recipes. Sometimes this is a
beautiful thing, a natural evolution, like adding prickly pear juice to a
margarita, or garlic to mashed potatoes.
But some recipes should never be touched. They are sacred, and should exist only as
perfected. This got me to
thinking about two friends – husband and wife – with splendid taste who went
gaga over fresh basil tossed into Caesar salad.
“What???!!!” you exclaim?
That’s what I said: Basil in a
Caesar salad. Crazy, right? A powerful leafy green in Caesar salad changes
everything. It completely overshadows the Romaine and clashes
with the dressing, which has taken centuries
to perfect. Would you add Romaine
lettuce to pesto? Of course not!
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| Panettone, a classic |
Then there’s coffee.
What’s with the flavors? Vanilla,
hazelnut. Yuck. Coffee is coffee. If you enjoy the sublime taste of coffee with
flavor, get yourself a pastry to eat with
the coffee, like a shortbread cookie or biscotti.
