Circle of Croquembouche

This life we're in. Is it delicious or bitter? Sour or savory? Are we tasting the fruits of our labors or grubbing for leftovers? Are we building anew in daring ways, like this cream puff croquembouche you see here, or are we melting down like wet spun sugar?

Reason I ask is, my life has gone circular on me. Before Dueling Margaritas was conceived in the sweet lil town of Dubois, Wyoming, as a partnership with a fabulous editor from a major magazine, I was a cubicle-dwelling, fully employed person of a company con health insurance. I worked on big accounts and was a bit smug about it. Perhaps you've heard of Coca-Cola. Pizza Hut. Samsung. Boy, does my resume look rich.

Then came the gelatinization of the economy. Let's not dwell there. It's enough to say I'm one of those Americans you've heard about and crossed yourself that you didn't lose your job in mid-life, with two kids in college.

When I tanked, similar to the narrative in "Then We Came to the End," I had nowhere to turn, so I entered culinary school. (I've often said it's the adult's version of running away to join the circus).

On the side, I now work for a gourmet-to-go market and bakery. It has given me new perspective on the work that people do to pay their bills. In food service, the hours are long, the pay is low and the pains are unceasing. If you're not burning yourself, you're banging your elbows. At the end of a shift, you hurt all over - in your hair, in your eyebrows, in the fingernails.

I haven't written a word about working for this new company, because I never want to say anything that could reflect a point of view that is not consistent with its brand position. See how working in advertising pays off? It's enough to say the food is fresh, fast, and I know how it's prepared, so it's safe. I have a high regard for their artisan breads, and the "chocolate oblivion" flourless cake with mousse, caramel and Heath chips is a chocoholic's delight. With the company's help, I've managed to work an early shift, then go to school. It's not a life sentence, right?

Here's the circular part. Not one but two companies who previously freed themselves of my expertise have reached out to hire me on a contract basis. It gives me great pleasure to help one of them (after all, I can't take on three jobs can I?) By contractual signature I cannot say who or what I'm doing, but it is sweet as cherry pie to be needed again.

Maybe that's what I'm getting at here: Losing one's career is a bitter bag of brussels sprouts. Moving forward when you don't know where you're going is a tall glass of vinegar with sprigs of Swiss chard.

Paula Deen told me the harder you work, the luckier you'll get. And with luck, maybe your life can take a turn and maybe it's circular. Maybe what you lose along the way can come back to you.

And maybe, just maybe, there will be cream puffs in this, with a marzipan rose or two.