Cooking was her greatest passion, dessert her dearest love. She was renowned, in fact, for what she could do with sugar; not just chocolates or fruits, but sugar, pure and simple, or mixed with the most eclectic ingredients, to make creations of gustatory genius.
And, like all chefs, she was the first to test her newest creations.
So it was with the greatest of woe that she received her diagnosis of diabetes.
The restaurant was shuttered for two weeks. Her regular patrons were dismayed when they arrived to consistently see the “Closed” sign. Inside, she alternated between tears of woe, and experiments with aspartame and other sweeteners, only to be met with failure.
Of course, the diagnosis didn’t need to be a death knell for her work. She still had a vast supply of previously created delights to draw from. But it was the creativity of the work she loved, the experimentation, the love of new things, that made her want to continue as a chef.
It was early on a Tuesday morning that she woke up inspired. Sugar had been her medium before, but like an artist abandoning oil for acrylic, she had a new thought: nut butter.
Not the sugar-laden stuff on many shelves, but the pure, peanut- or almond- or cashew-only stuff you find hidden away, a few shelves down. She bought several dozen jars and began her experiments.
A week later, she flipped the sign to the restaurant to “Open”. A few customers came in and left sated, discussing the delicious, yet somehow healthy dessert. Her first experiments a success, so expanded in all directions: tofus, lentils, and nuts became her new media, and her restaurant a mecca for the insulin-challenged. Her business expanded threefold, and though she still enjoyed the occasional sweet, her disease proved a boon for all.