I had promised my best friend from college, Laura, a batch of those aforementioned Ginger Molasses cookies that I’d baked a couple of weeks back. Unfortunately, I failed to get her addresses before a pack of hungry vultures descended upon those and swooped them up into their hungry beaks, devouring them. Actually, that was only Chris, but he managed to put them away so soundly and completely, I didn’t have anything to show for Ms. Muniz when time came around.
So, to replace them, I decided to make Robert Linxe’s chocolate truffles (via Smitten Kitchen) which apparently are the same as they make at La Maison du Chocolat. The significance of this legendary chocolatier is a bit lost on me since I do not live in New York, nor have ever read “Kissing In Manhattan,” in which the candies figure prominently, but hey, it’s chocolate and therefore will always be good.
No matter. I wasn’t sure how the chocolates would hold up after several days in the mail, but I can tell you that the half-batch I left at home did not last as long as it took Laura’s shipment to get to Dallas, and that they were mighty, mighty tasty. In my note to her, I recommended that she tell potential truffle thieves off with the lie that she was munching on little-bitty turds. I’ve still yet to receive a status update from the Lone Star State, so as far as I know the truffles could have congealed into two large clumps, which I’m afraid would really look like feces. But I guarantee that it’d be the tastiest feces ever.