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I just learned that National Dessert Day is a real thing. Which begs the question…isn't every day National Dessert Day? For me, most days include the mini-luxury of a sweet treat. I remember running in the door from school to the smell of my mom’s freshly baked Tollhouse cookies, cupcakes, or whoopee pies. The next day my brown bag lunch would have a tin-foil wrapped treat from the day before.

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My grandmother passed her passion for baking along to my mother who passed it along to me. Gramma Helen whipped up delicious cream puffs at the drop of a hat. And I remember that she served bouchee a la reine as part of many holiday dinners. I remember thinking, where did she learn to do that?

In 2012, the series I had been producing went on hiatus and I had a decision to make. Would I continue in my media career or should I take a chance to pursue my passion? After a little bit of research, my future became clear: I applied to pastry school in Paris...and got in! My year was filled with butter and sugar, tartes aux pommes, pate a choux, and chocolat.

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In the Ferrandi kitchen, I met new friends from all over the globe. We took our pastry mission very seriously and could often be spotted around the city doing pastry "research."  

In the Ferrandi kitchens we spent our days rolling out dough, creating chocolate sculptures, and occasionally burning our eclairs. When we made mistakes (or a big mess) Chef Thierry would sidle up to our stations, shake his head sadly and say, “Ooh la la la la.” (Note the extra la las). As Americans we think of “ooo la la” as being a compliment for something fancy, but in France the popular phrase has many meanings…not all complimentary.

Over the course of the year I learned that my passion for baking (and eating dessert) didn't quit translate into a career change. So I've happily returned to media, meeting wonderful new people at FableVision and learning about the digital side of educational media. And every now and then, when the mood strikes, I bake a little something for all the FableVisionaries to brighten their day and show them I appreciate all their hard work. I even made them cream puffs, just like my grandmother, to treat them to a mini-luxury straight from Paris. 

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