Baking by the Dozen
Aug 23, 2012 18:56:07 GMT -5
Post by Vincent Meian on Aug 23, 2012 18:56:07 GMT -5
Despite how well he'd wrapped them and how short (relatively) the bike ride from home to the cafe was, Vincent was sorely tempted to eat the buns he was currently delivering. It wasn't as if he had a weak strength of will - far from it. He simply loved baking, and the naai jau smelled delicious.
He wasn't sure why he'd taken half to pan to bring to Ari - he and his daughters could have finished all of them off in three days if they set their minds to it (which they often did). He also wasn't entirely sure that the baker would enjoy them as much. Aside from the various fruits he'd added to the whipped cream for variety, there was only about 75 grams (or .375 cups) of sugar for nearly 24 buns. He wasn't sure they were sweet enough for the barista's taste, but at breakfast his family hadn't complained. So, he'd brought the remaining ten with him. Two of each flavor; strawberry, honeydew melon, peach, coconut, and plain.
He'd hoped he hadn't tried too hard. He honestly wanted to impress the man enough that he'd at least enjoy the goods, if not put them on his shelf.
Braking to a halt in half a block from the cafe (he'd double-checked the address that morning to be sure), Vincent stepped off his bike and locked it into the bike cage, making sure that both the frame and the front wheel were roped into the steel pipes. Once secure, he removed his helmet, hooked it under his arm, and lifted the lacquered box by the string wrapped entirely around it. After checking the contents were still warm and dry, he nodded to himself, pleased. If Ari didn't like these, he probably wouldn't enjoy any Japanese pastry, of that he was sure.
Walking up to the shop, he glanced at the store hours to make sure he wasn't too early (it had been 7am when he'd left home, so it was likely between 7:30 and 7:45 by now), then pushed open the door. Music he was unfamiliar with wafted through the air along with the smell of fresh bread and coffee, and he nearly smiled at the relaxing tone of the who business. It was very peaceful, and he was certain the owner was very proud.
Not seeing Ari behind the counter, Vincent walked to the front and placed the box down gently, its edges clicking as it settled into place. "Hello?" he called out, looking towards what he assumed was the kitchen. "Janinski-san, are you here?"
He wasn't sure why he'd taken half to pan to bring to Ari - he and his daughters could have finished all of them off in three days if they set their minds to it (which they often did). He also wasn't entirely sure that the baker would enjoy them as much. Aside from the various fruits he'd added to the whipped cream for variety, there was only about 75 grams (or .375 cups) of sugar for nearly 24 buns. He wasn't sure they were sweet enough for the barista's taste, but at breakfast his family hadn't complained. So, he'd brought the remaining ten with him. Two of each flavor; strawberry, honeydew melon, peach, coconut, and plain.
He'd hoped he hadn't tried too hard. He honestly wanted to impress the man enough that he'd at least enjoy the goods, if not put them on his shelf.
Braking to a halt in half a block from the cafe (he'd double-checked the address that morning to be sure), Vincent stepped off his bike and locked it into the bike cage, making sure that both the frame and the front wheel were roped into the steel pipes. Once secure, he removed his helmet, hooked it under his arm, and lifted the lacquered box by the string wrapped entirely around it. After checking the contents were still warm and dry, he nodded to himself, pleased. If Ari didn't like these, he probably wouldn't enjoy any Japanese pastry, of that he was sure.
Walking up to the shop, he glanced at the store hours to make sure he wasn't too early (it had been 7am when he'd left home, so it was likely between 7:30 and 7:45 by now), then pushed open the door. Music he was unfamiliar with wafted through the air along with the smell of fresh bread and coffee, and he nearly smiled at the relaxing tone of the who business. It was very peaceful, and he was certain the owner was very proud.
Not seeing Ari behind the counter, Vincent walked to the front and placed the box down gently, its edges clicking as it settled into place. "Hello?" he called out, looking towards what he assumed was the kitchen. "Janinski-san, are you here?"
