The Utopian Dream 09-04-2024
My name is Maria Baker. No, I am not a pâtissière, contrary to what my last name would tell you. I run a confectionary shop, making all sorts of sweet treats - hard candies, chocolates, gummies, you name it. Yes, I do temper the chocolate myself, and no, the bourbon caramels do not actually contain alcohol.
I've made each of the dozens of sweets you see on the wall, and each one has a bit of a backstory to it. For instance, the Chocolan't was made after a kid came in here and seemed pretty upset that he couldn't try the multitudes of chocolates due to his allergy. So, I did some research, made a few test batches using carob instead of cocoa (along with a few proprietary ingredients), and asked him to try it out the next time he visited. The smile on his face reminded me exactly why I love my job. I'm not some scientist saving the world with new inventions, nor am I a pastry chef pushing the limits of the culinary arts. I just love making tasty sweets and seeing the joy they can bring to people.
Now, there are times when people enter the shop, and I can see that they need a bit of a pick-me-up. Something to take their weight of the world off their mind, a little piece of sugar to brighten their mood. For these people, I think they need a little bit more than a sweet treat. So, when they come up to the counter, I ask them a favor:
"Would you mind trying a sample of a new hard candy that I'm prototyping?"
Most people will not turn down the offer of free candy. So, they take the small, clear hard candy and pop it in their mouths. I then ask them how it tastes.
"It tastes mildly herbal, a bit minty, but certainly refreshing," says the elderly woman, wondering if it tastes like her new medication or if her new medication tastes like the candy.
"It tastes like a sweet strawberry!" exclaims the little girl who, for the first time, has come with her mother only.
"Yes, it tastes like strawberry, and there's almost a hint of vanilla I think," comments the mother.
"It's a sweet and a bit sour. I'm getting some kind of citrus taste from it," speculates the teenager, who was recently dumped by his boyfriend.
I tell them that I appreciate their feedback, and as a show of thanks, I give them a few pieces of The Utopian Dream on the house. I explain that based on what they've told me, I figure that they would enjoy this one.
What I don't tell them is that there are different flavors to The Utopian Dream, and that the candy named The Utopian Dream up on the shelf isn't the same as the curated samples I'm handing them. So, they head home, try it, eating one or two pieces, and think nothing of it.
At night, they slip out of the waking world into a pleasant dream.
The elderly woman dreams that she is walking in a field of wildflowers, free from her chronic pain and ailments, and she revels in it, dancing and running amidst the natural beauty.
The child smiles in her sleep, dreaming that her father is baking up his signature strawberry shortcake while she plays games with her mother.
The mother dreams of a peaceful day in the park, where she sits beside her husband, listening to his gentle voice and watching her daughter run around the playground.
The teenager dreams that he is talking with his friends about the movie they just saw, his heartbreak temporarily forgotten.
The dream fades once they wake up in the morning though, but that's just how it is. You can't taste the sweetness of a confection forever. But in that brief moment, there's a bit of joy - that's what this is all about, making people happy.