Two years ago I created my very first dessert table. It was an unknown territory for me; I was oblivious to the dessert table movement that was building around the globe. When I had discovered this world of dessert styling and custom parties with stylists like Amy Atlas, I was stunned; it was everything I imagined dessert could be-I had found my people!
Not long after my discovery my Great Aunt Stella would be celebrating her 83rd birthday and her family called on me to help. My Aunt Stella had six children and thirty four grand and great grand children who adored her. To pay tribute to her legacy I made her family tree the party theme. Green, brown and white became the party colors and my first dessert table was created with homemade lollipops, chocolate and white chocolate cake truffles, brownies, a birthday cake and chocolate candies...
My Aunt Stella was one of four daughters, and my grandma Rosie's oldest sister. Those two were a lot alike; feisty, funny and very strong women. After my grandmother passed away I hung on my Aunt Stella's every word when she would tell stories about she and her sisters growing up together on the farm.
One of my favorite stories is of Stella and Rosie, two little girls playing in their small and humble kitchen while their mother hung laundry outside. In those days every commodity was a luxury, so you could imagine their distress when in their play they managed to cover the entire room with their mothers fresh bag of flour. Covered in white from head to toe they hurried to clean the mess and Rosie in her haste slipped and cut her knee open on the stove. Now, not only did they need to manage the floured kitchen but also a bloody knee, so Stella, the eldest of the two, grabbed a bucket and ran down to the well to fetch some water to clean Rosie's knee and the messy kitchen. She ran as fast as she could, going over in her mind all that needed to be tended to back in the kitchen and hadn't noticed the dog that was on her heels ready to pounce.
Her cries summoned her mom and dad who found her near the well, covered in flour and a fresh dog bite. They carried her home to find Rosie also covered in flour crying over her wounded knee. Needless to say the fun of their romp in the kitchen quickly got away from them and they were tended to--then scolded. I imagine those two little girls stayed up late that night and had a good laugh about the days happenings.
A month after my Aunt Stella celebrated her 83rd birthday she passed away; I imagine her and my grandmother laugh about it now in heaven!
I am so thankful that my Aunt Stella gave me my first opportunity to do what I love!