Sorry I haven't written in a while--I've never had a spare minute and something meaningful to say at the same time. And frankly, I don't have anything terribly profound to write at this moment, either, but the mood struck me so here we go.
I made ganache for the first time a few days ago. It was just mini chocolate chips and boiled cream, and I didn't even get all the chips to melt completely, but it still looked pretty snazzy on the cake. There was some ganache left over, and I decided to save it in the fridge because I've heard you can make it into truffles.
So this afternoon I was in the mood for a few truffles. OK, let me rephrase that--I'm always in the mood for a few truffles, but this afternoon I remembered that I had the stuff on hand to make some. I assumed it would be a simple procedure: spoon some chilled ganache out of the container, roll it into a ball, roll the ball in cocoa, and eat it (or store it in the fridge, if you're disciplined like that). Apparently the process is more complicated than that, because instead of forming into a firm ball the ganache started melting into a gooey mess. So I did what any sensible woman would do--I stuck it in my mouth as quickly as possible.
Sweet Sister Lizzy, that stuff was good. Before I knew it, I was spooning ganache into my mouth as if it were the key ingredient to wisdom, health, and happiness. Within thirty seconds I'd consumed more calories than the average person should eat in two days. I finally willed myself to put the container back in the fridge and leave the room. If I'd used Ghiradelli or some other similarly luscious brand of chocolate instead of Nestle, I'd probably have eaten the whole thing in one sitting.
At least I would have died happy. :)