The Glass Knife: Winter Park, Florida

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Kaley looked at me wide-eyed and said, "it wasn't perfect?" Moments before she had asked what I thought of the dessert I had eaten. Two small bites were left on the white china plate. The brass fork perched precariously on the edge as she slowly moved the plate toward her almost protectively. 

It hasn't yet been a week since I returned from Paris. Two whole weeks in France in November. The golden yellow light making the pink quartz buildings glow each morning and early evening. The fresh baguettes purchased for a Euro and carried out tucked under one arm or in a shopping bag. Glorious multi-colored, multi-layered pastries; the delicate pain-staking preparation in each precious item and then the lingering over each bite, each sip, each meal, each conversation.

Paris is still running through my mind and I know it's not fair to The Glass Knife. Their own version of pink and golden yellow glowed in the early twilight with beautifully tiled floors and shining glass cases full of glistening pastries and cakes. They are supremely beautiful. Everything looks like Paris; the banquettes and the chairs, the long communal table, the attention to detail, the brass and chrome and glass. It's all so very very familiar and yet...maybe I was missing the "Bonjour madame!" that's been sung to me for the past 14 days. 

The chocolate onyx pastry was not quite a pastry but a cake, and not quite a cake but a gelee, and there was coffee crunch and cream and gold flakes. It was beautiful and yet, it seemed busier than it needed to be. I felt selfish saying what I did to the sweet-faced young woman looking for an answer. I had to tell her. "I've just gotten back from Paris and this was good. It was good, but not perfect." It isn't fair, I know. I promise to go back. I do. 

One of the most supremely talented baristas in the entire city is there and I have to return just for his espresso pulls. Brett Ware won my heart back in 2013 at Barnies CoffeeKitchen and now he's here, in all his dark-haired creative glory. I've followed him from coffee bar to coffee bar and now, to my great delight, he's back in the neighborhood. 

The Glass Knife is a delightful experience. It's lovely. I just have to embrace a bit more of the present before trying it again.