Trust him, you'll like it.

Le Artiste has been a busy little beaver this morning. He awoke at 6.20am (yes, that is 6.20am precisely, not 6.19 and not 6.21, trust me, he double checked on the kitchen clock) and set to work putting together a marketing plan to knock the chocolate bar conglomerates off their perches. I'm telling you, if the new Chock Rock bar from Snip,Snap doesn't blow you away then my name's not Waffles. Let me share some of the excellent selling points as presented on Le Artiste's fine advertising poster.

Well obviously it's the yummyest and juicest chocolate bar EVER ! How can you go past that ? I will most certainly be re-assessing all my chocolate bars from now on and if they don't rate highly on the 'juicy' scale, I will definitely reconsider any future purchases.

And don't we all love a product that is free from artifital colours or flavours with no presurvatives. Especially when it also contains mashmellos and a cream & caramel sauce. Mmm, got to love those mashmellos.

Alright, so say you're not swayed by the ingredients. Surely you wouldn't turn down the incloosion of a plazma TV. I know it's almost too good to be true but I'm sure it's not a misprint, it's even circled with a bright red box. So for the bargain price of 5c (or free, depending on which box you read) you'll not only get a delicious, healthy chocolate bar but you'll get a free plazma television. But wait....there's more....

...it's yummy, healthy, keeps you smart and NEW. It's like a super food, a food of the Gods perhaps, and it will keep you NEW. I'm getting giddy at the mere thought of it.

And if you're still not convinced that the Chock Rock bar is for you, well just take a look at the expression on the face of the non-smoking, skull and crossbone wearing chap above. If you can't take his word for it that it is 'delitous too,' then I am at a complete loss.

Now I'm no marketing guru but if I was the head honcho at Cadburys I would be very worried, very worried indeed.

By jove this kid can talk.

This morning Petal has been sitting at the breakfast table for forty-five minutes. You may think this is because I have served her seven eggs, twelve rashers of bacon, four tomatoes and fourteen slices of toast, but no, forty-five minutes is the period required for Petal to consume one lonely, solitary little piece of toast, oh, and a glass of juice, but the juice took approximately two minutes.

The reason Petal takes so long at the the table is that she likes to talk, actually saying that she likes to talk is like saying that Garfield likes lasagna, a serious understatement if ever there was one. She doesn't just like to talk, she LOVES to talk, and this kid could talk for Queensland, in fact I would go as far as saying I think she could talk for Australia....watch out Nations of the world.

Perhaps you think that I'm exaggerating, so let me share this mornings conversation with you.

*munch munch* "Mummy I know how to sing Hot Cross Buns *insert full rendition of Hot Cross Buns*, I can also sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star *insert full rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star*, how does Santa know if we've been good can he see us all the time ? Is Santa outside in a tree ? What about in space ? Is Santa in space ? He must be magic I would like to be in space can I go in to space mummy ? Mummy I know the actions for the Macarena *insert humming of The Macarena WITH actions* Is tomorrow a school day ? I like school days because I get to play with play doh and do stuff I like to do stuff. *munch* What's inside ice ? Is it crystals ? *insert mummy explaining where ice comes from* But does it come from a shop an ice shop ? You can't draw on it you know but it's very nice I like ice especially in my juice but it's very cold and crunchy "*giggle giggle*.....and so it goes on.....

Now I have to confess this is merely a snippet of the rather one sided conversation taking place at the breakfast table and to be perfectly honest, I can't remember what else she mentioned because the topics change at break neck speed and I haven't had a coffee yet. I struggle to keep up at the best of times which is saying something because you'll be extraordinarily surprised to learn that I, myself, am a rather accomplished talker. But it does make me pause for a moment to ponder what may come. I am a talker, my daughter is a turbo talker....so what would this make my grand-daughter ? Eek, I think I feel a little headache coming on.

The mama roared her terrible roar and ganached her terrible teeth.

Obviously I was getting cocky. Ganache, no problemo, I could whip up a batch in my sleep. Sure I'd learnt that a milk chocolate ganche took longer to set to a spreadable consistency then a pure dark chocolate ganache, but would a white chocolate ganche be any trickier ? Pfffff nah, thought I.

I also had a stroke of baking visionary genius, imagine it, a white chocolate ganache sneakily hiding a rich, moist dark and milk chocolate cake. My how pretty it would look with it's classic brown and cream tones, perched delicately on a butter plate.

Yes, well, lets just say that at 11pm the night before Petal's 5th birthday party, my vision dissolved in a glob of runny white chocolate and cream *ahem* ganache. After almost five hours my ganache still wasn't firming up. The Coach was helpfully suggesting that I "bung it in the fridge for a bit," as I tore out my hair, rolled my eyes and muttered "The fridge ? Butter and cream and chocolate, silly man, pfffft."

Well it was getting late, I was growing more tired and emotional by the second, and in an act of desperation, I simply decided to bung my soft, slightly runny (but devilishly tasty, if I don't say so myself) ganache on to the cake. As you can see from the photo, the end result wasn't quite the heavenly vision I had started out with, but with sheer determination, considerable cursing and one or two finger licking moments, I think it all ended up okay. And as we all know, when your ganache doesn't work out quite so perfectly, there are always silver flakes and sparkling cachous to sprinkle all over the top as an excellent distraction. Oh, and butterflies, butterflies work a treat.

Then this week we have been submerged back in to the clouds. All week, nothing but rain and grey skies. The message is clear folks....

We must poach, poach pears in a vanilla bean and lemon syrup. Then we will take our poached pears and a punnet of delectable fresh raspberries and we will bake a sour cream, pear and raspberry cake with absolutely, NOT ONE SINGLE DOLLOP OF GANACHE ON TOP. Has it got me beat ? Not at all. I'm already thinking about that batch of white chocolate cupcakes I'm going to make in the coming weeks...mmmm, yum.