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On Friday night while I was sweating out the making of the Dacquoise component pieces, I realized when my wife was watching and began to question me about my process that I was highly irritated at how things were progressing. I politely asked her to not speak to me just then, and after I had completed the particular task and began to wash dishes, told her that due to my concerns and dissatisfaction with the dessert that I would not be fit company for man nor beast nor significant other until the following day.

She snorted a laugh and assented, and I finished the dishes, washed up, and retired to our bedroom to read and think of other things, other than that damned dessert. The meringue–overdone for sure, I thought. The frosting? Omg, would I ever be able to get it right? And cutting the meringue…slowly and meticulously with the serrated blade…then to see it literally BREAK IN HALF before my very eyes….woe. Woe! I say.

The dessert has been in the fridge all night. Would it be too cold? I still had the final step, which was to cover the entire wreck with the chocolate ganache, thickly covering the top though the sides, if only smeared halfway, would apparently be ‘ok’ according to the instructions. To be certain, I made another half-measure of the ganache, melted it and added it to the existing ganache which had suitably hardened on the counter overnight.

I poured, I spread, and the eyesore that was the belly of the beast slowly disappeared from sight. After slathering on the almond pieces and decoratively placing the hazelnuts, it…it actually looked like one of those desserts you see in the goddamned patisseries of #%$&ing Paris.

Sure, it wasn’t perfect…the central meringue layers were 2.5″ wide rather than the 3″ of the top and bottom layers, but…but…

God. It’s so pretty. I did that. Me!

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