Christmas Reality

This is a perfect example of what life is like:

A perfect holiday dessert, executed with style, flair and kitschy perfection. (In three flavors, no less, AND beautifully photographed.) I love Tartelette and also Orangette, because these young, beautiful and enviably dainty patissières make it look easy. I imagine them flitting about their flour and glitter dusted world in flirty hostess aprons, fingertips trailing sparkling fairy dust.

In real-life, made by a regular person, this is what can happen. Poor, poor Alison! As you know if you've been reading this, I am familiar with sponge-cake failure. Along with sponge-cake failure comes the feeling that you're not quite the chef or baker you thought you were, and maybe not woman enough for the job. Martha Stewart would shun you. Especially heartbreaking during the holidays. It's hard to get back at the whisk after that. But the holidays are all about making it work. "Remember the time we spent all day and night baking that buche de noel and it fell apart, and we had to get up early and drive to a bakery and buy one and pull the decorations off in the car on the way to school, and re-frost it so it would look like we made it?" Like that. At least in my mind, that's how it would work. But we don't know what happened at the end of Ali's story. I liked the suggestion about piling up Ho-ho's and making them look like tiny yule logs, France be damned.

I have made one, in fact, at least two, of these dreaded buches de noel. My recipe, which was given to me by my English teacher (and the mother of a future Chief Justice) in the 8th grade, is much, much more low-tech. I think it includes instant pudding and possibly Cool-Whip. Of course, that doesn't help Alison, but I will locate it and post for you, and if I can find the picture of the one I made when I was 15 or 16, I will do that as well. For now, just send condolences to Alison at Cleaner Plate Club.