Sistine Chapel with a caramel crust

Methinks I need a proviso.

I don't hate creme brûlée. I don't think any less of people who like creme brûlée. In fact, most of the people I hold intensely dear get creme brûlée every time they are in a restaurant. My Moozh, love of my life and the ministry to my silly walks, ordered creme brûlée just last night. And I DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING! Creme brûlée is a beautiful combination. There is something mega satisfying about cracking through the sugar crust and finding silky smooth custard, with everything from chocolate to fresh berries to earl grey tea flavouring it up. But let me put it this way: If you were capable of painting the Sistine Chapel but you were all, "Ya know, I think I'm just gonna skip class and tape pictures from magazines onto the front of my binder…" WHAT. There is nothing wrong with taping pictures to your binder. I do it too. But why the flip aren't you painting the Sistine Chapel!? Not that I'm saying that burnt orange ice cream is the Sistine Chapel.

Juuuuuuuust kidding. All this is to say, when you are on a paintball course, you run, you scream, you shoot the crap out of things. Have fun. Go crazy. I will have ample opportunity to make creme brûlée when I get a job out of school. Because EVERY RESTAURANT I've ever been  to has it on their menu.

If it makes you feel any better, I'm on dessert tomorrow and it needs to be chocolate and I'm out of ideas. Or maybe I can only remember putting flipping curry in it. Oy.