Your probably wondering why I am frosting sidewalk patterns. (I would.)
Well, I started my day yesterday determined to get back into my routine of mornings at the "coolie" (Georgia terminology for Clube Pinheiros) our favorite green oasis (with playground and pool) amongst all this concrete. G has been pining to go--climbing into her stroller (on her own and without bribe), pointing to the door, and repeating "coolie, coolie, coolie."
So we set off and en route I started daydreaming about NYC delis. (My breakfast had disappointed.) Visions of cream cheese "schmears", iced coffees, bagels (that I didn't have to knead and boil and bake) and nasty counter clerks with thick accents came to mind. And then I remembered soft and sweet black and whites, a deli cookie staple and personal favorite. I used to imagine that there was deep-rooted psychological explanations involved in deciding which side to eat first. And since I didn't have a shrink, I lined up the middle line between my front teeth and chomp--half black, half white. Problem solved. Boy were they good.
My revery had me feeling like I was back in Manhattan--until my stroller wheel got stuck in the terrain. And, poof, I was back in São Paulo again. Home of some of the world's most dangerous sidewalks and Brigadeiros instead of cookies. And since my eyes were usually troubleshooting all the exposed tree roots and holes I never gave much thought to the omnipresent black and white iconic geometric pattern of the tiled ground beneath my feet. But today I had black and white on the brain and the frustration gave way do design admiration. And suddenly I knew that I needed to make my own Brazilian version of this New York deli sweet.
So it was a tricky eye-crossing-optical-illusion bake-off this afternoon. I frosted up a version of the wavy sidewalks on Copacabana Beach in Rio and the geometric repetition of my home state of São Paulo.
They taste just as I remembered. But they are definitely not perfect--just like the bumpy sidewalks.