Created on Sunday, January 15, 2006.
Filed under .

I’ve always felt a sort of innate attraction to pastries, and especially to ovens. I suppose this goes back to my early days in the Philippines, where my mother would take care of me and my sister for the whole day, and when we were put to bed would start taking care of her orders for fruit cake, confectionery and assorted other baked goods. Her foodstuffs were in high demand and she made a little business of selling tens of batches of Whatsit to a pool of consumers that expanded by word-of-mouth alone.

I sometimes remember waking up late at night and going downstairs to find my mother filling lollipop moulds with melted chocolate, or manipulating lumps of marzipan into incomprehensible, mystifying shapes; I did not know at the time that this one was a sheep, and that one a mother holding a child.

Sometimes she would let me stay up for a little while and help her cut cookies from dough or let me mix some batter, but she would always let me lick the spoon and routinely tell me that she enjoys having her kids with her in the kitchen, though I eventually became more interested in food than my sister.

I forget exactly at what point I decided to become a pastry chef. In a moment of laziness I may have decided that Chef requires too much work, and Office Lackey was too low for someone of such awesome stature and good looks.

I most probably decided that crafting blobs of flour and water into things people would eat — would pay to eat — was my natural calling and that I was born with incongruously muscled arms and to a mom who loves to cook to speed me to such a decision and career.

Whichever way you might take it, it’s a great idea.

P.S. I just bought Grandia 2, and I’ve got a mighty hate for it already. What’s with the slow text? They didn’t even give me an option to speed it up. What’s with the fifteen minutes of zero player interaction when the game starts? Oh my.

That's all there is, there isn't any more.
© Desi Quintans, 2002 – 2018.