Anticipation

Yesterday afternoon we drove home from Portland with a bombe in our car. That’s bombe with an ‘e’ which is defined in our dictionary as a round or melon-shaped frozen mold made from a combination of ice creams, mousses, or ices. Fortunately it didn’t ‘go off’ (or, in this case, melt) in our car. We made it home, bombe intact.

This particular confection was a Scharffen Berger Bombe and, according to the menu at Papa Haydn’s Westside Restaurant on NW 23^rd, it is a light mousse featuring 70% Cacao Bittersweet Scharffen Berger chocolate, chocolate glaze. (That does not even begin to describe it!!) Nyel and I had shared one after a delicious lunch – me a steak salad and Nyel a croque-monsieur – and then I ordered a bombe to go!

Never mind that it was 97° in Portland and we had a two-and-a-half hour drive ahead of us! Our Prius is only a year old and the A/C still works! And besides… it was Nyel’s birthday! If a guy can’t have a chocolate dessert or two on his birthday, what the heck?

Bombe Box

Otherwise, his day was less than stellar. We got up at 4:30 to make it to an early morning appointment for his right foot problems. We went to Nordstrom’s and returned a pair of faulty jeans. And we went to Papa Hadyn’s for lunch. That was it.

The bombe arrived home safely – no noticeable chocolate melt. There were Happy Birthday messages from friends and loved ones and Nyel had the entire, decadent dessert to himself. (He ate it while we watched reruns of “The Big Bang Theory.”)

Later, he reassured me that it had been a fine birthday. Which just goes to prove once again that as long as there is chocolate…