Semi Freddo is singular
Semi Freddi is plural
That’s what I make in the dessert lounge, semi freddi in many forms. I also throw down various gelato cakes bottomed in sponge cake. To be honest it’s not hard to perform the assemblies. What is hard is dealing with a bi polar manager who has NO sense of fairness. But seeing as to how her sense of equality is tainted, it is easy to see why the gods made her childless. I will not be poisoned or threatened with her hoots and hollers and pathetic attempts at manipulation. If there was one thing I learned early on is manipulation and how to dole it out in such small inconsequential amounts so that you are stockpiling trickery and making people believe INHERENTLY that doing for you benefits them. Fucking please – that salty glare of hers comes no where NEAR my mothers kung fu death glare with snap of neck. Sheeeeeeit. When you are raised in a house with a keep hot rice cooker – it takes more than a bullshit glare and exasperated stare to scare my brown ass. Bwaa aahahahahaha. That bitch needs to fire herself. The next time she tells me I need to improve my relationship with my co workers (I don’t have relationships with retards AIIGHT) – I’m gonna tell her, next time you tell me my shit stinks wipe your own muhfuckin ass. Put money on that > coz if I speak it I’ll do it.
Okay well back to the cakes. So basically these cakes are a pastry cream folded in with either chefs choice flavor or a custom flavor. After I whip that together I throw a splash of meringue and then some whipped heavy cream (no sugar) and then pipe it into a mold and let it blast in the freezer. Then I hit it with a mirror glaze and some decorative sauce or fruit or chocolate. Whatever tickles my ass that day – that’s basically what I do. Mind you, I’ve had to make adjustments to the “authentic” Italian recipes coz they don’t quite stand up to the desert heat. But whatever. …The dinner party lady… So old girl strolls in with her baby Chanel purse. Exactly like the shit I threw in the back of my closet years ago coz it reminds me of chicks with pursed lips. I guess she had ordered semi freddi cakes, but indicated gelato cakes. I made some behemoth ass cakes last night with full decorations – but today ended up having to dress some cakes that my manager redid. And redid them without making the desert adjustments that I make but UH okay. Somehow I managed to get them on time. Old Chanel girl gave them an aloof nod and point of her finger – which is nouveau riche sign language means fabulous. Coz if they were ugly she would have made the pursed up post cosmetic surgery fuckin face. Here’s the cakes:
Chocolate and Coffee
Food Allergy People
Fucking food allergy people. You know when I was a little kid I used to be allergic to eggs and shit. My eyes and mouth would swell up all itchy and shit. so you know what my mom did she gave me a little bite of egg every morning off of their plates until my ass got desensitized to shit. So I could grow up and get a fucking omelette or eat mousse or whatever. So why the hell is it that people walk into wherever with this behaviour as if their “need” should be catered to. Why the fuck are so many little kids allergic to nuts. Why do all the people who have nose jobs want sugar free. Why do all the fat people ask for the fat content. How come the girls who don’t fit their hipster jeans always ask do you have a nutritional printout. They can all suck my chef spatula. If you walk into a gelateria/dessert lounge…enjoy it mothuhfuckas – don’t act all conscientious and shit and don’t give anyone a weird ass look for not providing 30 sugar free desserts. Holy freakin’ tree god.
So today a request came in for a “baby shower” cake. They didn’t know the sex of the baby – so no weird baby shit – just a pretty cake, no egg products whatso ever - so i did strawberries and cream and lemon as they wanted strawberry and lemon flavor - bleh. But I like it. I love cutting up fruit. Makin a little something out of nothing. Still gets on my nerves...but i kill the work, grin and twirl a knife in my hand in the back. Laughing while they pay the money.