Waiting for Waltons

(view from the kitchen into the shop)

I wonder if the city of Austin can fathom the glorious scents that will waft from the confines of Waltons on 6th street once we get permission to turn the ovens on. They musn’t have a clue, not a one, because our gas permits have not yet been approved. Just look at that convection line-up! I was dancing with two measly ovens in the green mountains and Tim and I were still able to crank out pastries enough for a town of 8,000. Can you imagine what we’ll accomplish with all these beauties blasting and a healthy baking staff backing us up?  

Sadly I’m spending my hours destroying my temporary residential pad with industrial strength baking, just trying to cool my heels until I can get my ever expanding ass to work in our new professional digs. Come on now, what am I supposed to do with all the tasty goodness I’ve been whipping up? I’m not one to let a buttery morsel go to waste. Of course I’d much rather offer my confections for sale to the general public but that's sadly impermissible when concocting from a residential kitchen inhabited by six fuzzy dogs and four mangy humans. Hence the expansion of my posterior due to my selfless consumption of innocent domestic morsels that would otherwise go to waste if not for my sacrifice.

Lord have mercy, please do me a favor say a prayer to the administrative gods who are holding up our opening so I can end this unrepentant butter fat binge.
Amen.

(dormant ovens)

(Nola and I spend our days longing for opening day)