Today, I finally caved in to the inevitable. I bought myself my very first jar of Speculoos pâte à tartiner.
Speculoos spread based on Speculoos cookies, a yummy cinnamon-y treat that goes well with espresso coffees and teas. The paste, though, is on a whole other plane from its delicious crunchy cousin.
My friends, Speculoos pâte à tartiner is the equivalent of nicotine for your tastebuds. I had just one teaspoon of the stuff and that was enough to have me salivating for days. My very thoughts were consumed by the call of the Speculoos desire until I cracked and bought some for myself.
I also took the chance and purchased some Bastogne cookies. These are the French equivalent of the Belgian/Dutch treat. It only seemed natural to put Speculoos spread on Bastogne cookies. Mixing a crunchy, crumbly texture with a divine lighter-than-air cinnamon cream...it's enough to drive my Shakira-hotness diet against a wall.
I dipped the spoon into the seemingly docile jar. I scooped out a minor dollop that seemed nearly negligible. With a swift, dexterous movement, the cookie and cream became one. I sink my front teeth into biscuit.
This is my Speculoos face, the physical manifestation of ecstasy and nirvana on my being. My foie gras face happens to be the same.
One cookie just wasn't enough. I needed to have just one more...
It is just so good. I see no need for a spoon. What is that good for, anyway? I can just use my index finger to scoop it out...
And then I am gone.
(By the way, his blog just recently turned five years old, so go congratulate him! )