Perfect?

The Perfect Brownie?

This blog started just over a year ago with an account of my quest to find the perfect brownie, resulting in my discovery of the chocolate brownie with salted caramel and peanuts. Quest over, I thought. In fact, I was so sure of it that I stopped looking altogether (those brownies are to die for and as I've just realised that I never posted the recipe, I promise to get it uploaded soon). 

The problem with perfection, however, is that it's a rather slippery concept and just when you think you've got it in your grasp, off it goes again. One very good example of the elusive nature of perfection can be found in another of my long-time quests: The Hunt for the Perfect Shoes. I have spent what is now the best part of two decades looking for the perfect shoes (all of you ladies out there will be intimately acquainted with the thrills and spills of this particular quest). Although the search itself didn't properly begin until I became an adult (with money of my own to fund it), I can trace its origins back to my childhood and one instance of extreme shoe envy, when Susan Smith turned up to school proudly sporting a pair of brown leather ’high’-heeled court shoes from Dunnes (high was a relative concept when coming from a place of constant flatness, so they were most likely all of 2-inches high). 

They seemed so grown-up and so far removed from the sensible Clarks shoes the rest of us were wearing, that we all spent the entirety of our lunch break taking turns to try them on. We were terribly envious and fascinated - high-heels were most definitely adult territory, yet here was one of our peers not only wearing grown-up shoes that fit her (i.e. not playing dress-up in her too-large Mammy's shoes), but walking as if she was born to it. At that point in time, shoes were still more about function than fashion - could I run, skip and play ball? - so the reason that the incident is so memorable probably has little to do with how lovely or fashionable the shoes might have been. I think it was more a budding awareness of their power; those shoes gave Susan a status beyond mere primary school student and for that one day, she was a queen among us.

Years later the hunt revolves around finding the perfect shoe to go with an outfit or to suit a particular occasion, location, season or activity. It's never one perfect pair of shoes (that would be way too easy); instead the list is endless and the goalposts constantly moving (the right boot for a hike in the mountains is most definitely not the perfect boot to wear to the office or out to dinner). And of course, that's the problem with perfection - our idea of what it is changes according to our needs, wants and desires (thus my idea of perfection can be quite different to yours). So does perfection exist? Am I doomed to search forever for the perfect shoe or the perfect brownie, all to no avail?

Chocolate Shoes

'Perfect' is a word that is bandied about recklessly - how often have you heard someone talking about wanting the 'perfect life' or the 'perfect job' for instance? But nobody has the perfect life (scratch the surface of what appears to be a perfect life and you would soon see the flawed, normal reality beneath) and certainly the perfect job is no more than a daydream (every job, even the great ones, have their humdrum, bang-your-head-against-a-wall moments). Seeking perfection in the big things will only lead to disappointment - there's simply too much scope for imperfection to creep in. But the little things, the everyday moments - they can be perfect. The perfect Mojito? Just ask my sister - she enjoyed one on a sunny afternoon recently, while sitting on her swing out the back garden. 

Perfection can be something to strive for, but it can also sneak up on you, creating a magical moment when all seems right with the world. For me, unexpectedly, that was an hour spent on the beach yesterday writing this. It was warm enough to walk barefoot in the sand, along the water's edge, and I had the whole beach almost to myself. I returned to sit on a rock in the sun, near the old railway bridge, where the babbling brook entered the sea (very picturesque indeed). At one point, I looked up from my scribbling and realised that I was perfectly content (despite a slightly numb bum from sitting on a hard rock) and for no particular reason at all. These moments might not last (the numbness and onset of clouds eventually drove me off), but while they do, they should be savoured. 

The Shoe of Perfection

So, the perfect shoes. Do they exist? Quite possibly: these chocolate shoes (a gift from Mam at Christmas) have it all - beauty, elegance, fabulous packaging, they work wonderfully with a cocktail, you can take them everywhere with you and they'll go with anything. But best of all, they taste delicious (a chocolate shoe! I know!!). Who could ask for anything more? 

But the perfect brownie? Well, No. 2 Sister happened to mention a recent outstanding brownie experience, in which a delicious chocolate brownie was topped with the most amazing chocolate fudge icing. It sounded so good that I simply have to give them a go. Could they supplant the current favourite, my perfect salted caramel and peanut brownie? Watch this space...