Happy birthday to......

(not me)

The hubby!!!

Yep, today was his b-day. And I won't mention how old. Older than me. By several years. Ha.

I know the hubby really prefers a lot of "out" cooking to my own, so I offered up many, many choices to him. I work in a corporate/shopping mecca of an area and there is very little I can't pick up and bring home.

Hubby has been working way late lately, and was hoping he'd get out of work at least on time today.

I called him about the time he was supposed to leave work, and got no answer on the phone. Not good. If he was there and saw my number come up, he'd answer.

Drove home, arrived home and hubby was not home yet. Spent some time cleaning/straightening up since his folks were stopping by at some point (his mom gets a little, well, mom-ish sometimes and just feels the need to stop by when she hasn't seen her first born in awhile).

After our last trip to Vegas and the profiteroles we had at Mon Ami Gabi and the way the hubby practically wrestled the plate away from me to take the last couple bites, I really wanted to make them for his b-day. Last night I did the Chocolate Sauce outta the Bouchon cookbook (well, ok, I semi-half-assed it since I did not have corn syrup on hand, so it was a mix of honey and sugar until the taste was good... and ala Ina, a little coffee added to bring out the chocolate flavor). After I was done doing enough clean up where I was convinced my mother in law wouldn't be bad-mouthin me all the way back to her house, I started making the profiteroles, not knowing what kind of mood hubby was in or when he'd be home. At least got the water/butter/sugar part done (also the Bouchon recipe).

And hubby got home. Late. And way cranky. I was just pulling the eggs out to add them to the dough, thinking Screw it! I'll go ahead! when he walked in the door. And wanted to be bothered with NOTHING, much less a decision on dessert.

We ended up getting Chinese food from the ONE place around here that does not deliver (which means, I drove to get it) and I didn't finish the profiteroles. No biggie.

And I was glad I didn't finish them, when his mom brought over some cake slices from the good Polish bakery. Which we didn't even eat (they're waiting in the fridge now).