I had a centerpiece for this Wednesday but.....I just went to a picnic in the park
with our Relief Society (a women's group in our church) and our darling activities
people, Jeremy Bird and her mom, Edna Neighbor put together these amazing
centerpieces made from fruit and veggies. Can you believe it?
The basket in the foreground is made with fruit.
Not only are they gorgeous but they are edible, but who would
have the heart to eat anything so lovely.
My centerpiece couldn't hold a candle to these beautiful bouquets.
Wish we had taken the pictures when the sun was
shinning so you could see the wonderful colors of the edible flowers.
Jeremy had never made these before but had seen them on the
Internet and knew she could make them. This girl can do anything, and I
mean anything! Talk about talent. WOW Gets it from her Mom I am sure.
And now on with my story and ........
The Clients Fury
We were so pleased with ourselves, we had actually created 5,000 beautiful golf ball truffles that we felt any chocolatier could be proud of. It had been an excruciating experience. But I have come to learn that the the most painful experiences are where we learn the most. I felt at this time that I could produce any truffle perfectly and I could compete with the best of them.
The truffles were delivered one day before the Dinah Shore Open, a very impressive golf tournament held in Palm Springs, exactly when they had requested delivery. We had done it and done it well.
One hour after they had been delivered the phone rang. With great anticipation I answered the phone, expecting to hear cheers and great accolades. What I heard was not anything like I had dreamt about. The person on the other end of the line sounded as if he were being choked. I could hear the strain in his vocal cords as if they were being stretched to their limit. He strained to get the words out. "What in the *@#@* are these things that you have sent me?" I could barely make out what he was saying. I said, "I'm sorry, what is the problem?" He reiterated the same statement, "What in the *$#@* are these things that you have sent me?" Only this time the words were quite legible and several decibels higher. I believe we sent you exactly what you ordered, 5,000 golf ball truffles. Is that not what you ordered?" I asked.
Yes, I ordered 5,000 golf ball truffles and I expected them to look like golf balls, THESE LOOK
LIKE RANGE BALLS!" By this time his voice was probably audible without the phone from his place of business in Palm Springs to our place in Newport Beach.
I was horror stricken. "What do you mean, they look like range balls? Are they damaged?"
I knew they were in perfect condition, not a mark on them and the "seams" were barely visible, they were perfect in my estimation. I would have put them up against Joseph Schmidt or anyone else for that matter. And our ganache was exquisite.
"These #@$*# golf balls are yellow not white, they look like RANGE BALLS." At that moment I knew exactly what he meant. For those of you who are not familiar with fine white chocolate, the color is off white and has a tinge of yellow where white chocolate coating is pure white, but not nearly the quality of fine white chocolate. We had assumed that the truffles we had purchased from our fabulous chocolatier had been created with fine white chocolate, not so. I tried to soothe the savage beast by explaining that these were far more delicious (which of course they were) and worth much more than those made with white chocolate coating but he would have nothing to do with me or my explanation.
Had all of our effort been for not? Would we have to eat (not literally, that much chocolate could probably kill you at one sitting) all 5,000 truffles? I meekly asked if he wanted us to pick them up and once again his voice was like the sound of air coming out of a balloon when you stretch the sides out to make a high shrill type of sound. "NO, I have no choice but to use them, but this will be my last order from you!!!!" My hear was broken, my pride was dashed. How could I continue with this Chocolate business? Should I go back to doing manicures, selling wigs, or jewelry or providing plants for restaurants? Maybe the antique store in Laguna Beach would be the place I needed to go back to. No, no, no, I had changed my occupation for the last time, this is where I wanted to be and I would be successful. One little irate man and a few, few? mistakes was not going to deter me. I would continue with my dream.
Next Chapter............The Business Continues to grow
I am participating in Centerpiece Wednesday