Some people are ice cream, some are candy. The very best though ...

Desserts may evoke early morning sweetness, dark chocolate thunder, tart, and icy confections, even the overwhelming discordance of multi-tiered flavor presentations.  After dinner, as the table is cleared and coffee provided, enchantment draws near.  The presentation of the dessert menu arouses salivary anticipation and a shy peek for the magic words Crème Brulee.

Crème Brulee is one of the deceptively simple recipes that show case gastronomic talents.  From the careful choice of a perfect vanilla bean to soak in the pre-scalded milk, to the forging of a golden molten caramel top at presentation, each metamorphosis of the ingredients requires skill, timing, a deft hand, and the unconscious talent of a qualitative chemist. 

The scant handful of ingredients necessary barely hints at the unseen ballet the chef's hands will perform as they deftly create a crackle finished, sweet, smooth, sticky, slide down the throat sublime experience.  The taste, texture, and tantalization of Crème Brulee resonates a primal chord that is not satiated by the mundane delights of less refined desserts.  Crème Brulee is the penultimate treat for me; a second helping of it is the ultimate.  

I equate conversation as menu offerings, illustrating the dessert-drenched depths of a person's spirit.  People range from the heartiness of oat fiber enriched apple crisp to the lightness of meringue.  The visual voice of email may be redolent of sweet chocolate, sticky with toffee, or drip dried crumbs of short bread and butter answers.  Daily drones of messages feed my mind a range of somewhat boring, sometimes bland, occasionally burnt concepts for consumption.

As the evening draws near, my mind numbs to the clamoring jangle of tastes and terrors.  Final messages slide with ice-walled anonymity across my mental surface requiring minimal effort to regurgitate an answer.  One more, than I am gone. 

The message indicator on my computer pops up announcing the arrival of a message with the euphemistic header of "A New Review".  Caught short, I stop and click to open the missive.  Cracking the sweet glaze of the salutation, I dip my spoon into the creamy depths and savor the texture of the note.  AuthorsDen friends send me Crème Brulee.