What do you do when you've discovered the best choux? You take a bite, and the pastry is light, tender and so flavorful, and the vanilla creme inside is perfect. You bite into the ball of pleasure and creme squirts everywhere. "Oh, excuse me sir, I didn't mean to squirt you with my creme!" Normally when this happens people are upset, but the creme from this choux is so amazing that the victim just smiles and licks the creme off his face.
I repeat my opening question: what do you do when you've discovered the best choux? The fact is, I don't know why this world is here - generations have come and gone, and generations will come and go, and for what? But after discovering the perfect choux, I realize I finally know my purpose. I order 8,000 choux to go and return to the creme cave - this will be my final charge. I clean up and put on my finest Wrangler denim and a crisp Target Merona casual shirt. I look in the mirror. This is it - don't get scared now. I take a seat on my La-Z-Boy chair. I open up one of my many boxes of choux and eat one whole. "It begins," I say, and I continue eating choux, inhaling them sometimes two or three or four at a time. I feel the creme filling me, expanding my organs, coursing through my veins, oh god my spleen!! How many choux have I eaten? Two thousand? I keep chouxing. My whole body is expanding - I keep growing - creming - until I don't look much different than the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters.
By now there is no way to know how many choux I have consumed. I know there is no way to eat another choux without bursting. I pick up a choux and look at it. "Thank you for being such a tasty, wonderful, creme-filled friend." I smile serenely and take a deep breath. It's time. I place the choux in my mouth and chew and swallow. For a moment, as my creme self explodes, bursting out into the universe as a big creme bang, travelling faster than the speed of creme, I understand everything.
Mah ze Dahr Bakery
West Village
