Lackluster.

It was in planning for several months, this after-hours event at the shop, with the last two weeks a push for planning and baking, and the actual day of the event an exhausting day of the usual work plus frantic cleaning and arranging and final preparations.

Lackluster is the word.

Not on our part, mind you, but in attendance.

I want to say that I was surprised, because I hate that I’m such a cynic at this point in life. In an email this morning, someone asked if I’d sold any of the paintings I’d been working on for several months for the event.

“No, nothing sold,” I replied. “I’m neither surprised nor upset, the latter probably being because of the former. We didn’t have great turnout at the event, which again, was not a surprise to me.”

When it comes to staging or participating in an event in North Dakota that doesn’t involve country music, beer, barbecue, charity pancake feed, Chuck Suchy (a local musician of local fame who performs everywhere every night it seems), deer paintings, the Blue Collar Comedy Tour, or something for free, good luck. For one thing, you’re asking people to try to understand an event that isn’t in their cultural repertoire. And, you’re competing with the bars in a state with extremely high alcohol abuse levels. I remember with some horror how embarrassed I was when a visiting symphony came to town and put on a wonderful free concert at the lovely Belle Mehus auditorium only to see that it was about 15 percent full, and most of those were elderly people. The music was phenomenal, and I had no doubt that all the Applebees and TGI Friday’s and Ground Rounds in town were full instead of the auditorium.

It’s hard to get people to come to events, particularly if they’re new, and particularly if they don’t fit into a category that people understand. This may have been part of the difficulty, that concept of cultural repertoire.

The event we had at the shop last night wasn’t a concert (though we had a couple of people initially asking where the opera performance was). It wasn’t about free food or samples (which was a tremendous disappointment to some callers earlier in the day). There wasn’t a cover charge (a very common question we were asked). It was a small art show with the opportunity to purchase high-end desserts that were likely new to many people. It was a chance for sitting around sipping coffee and eating and enjoying conversation with friends in a very lovely atmosphere. It wasn’t a bar or noisy restaurant in a town that has precious little but Starbucks to fill that coffee-and-conversation-only need on a Friday night.

“I’m not sure what I thought about tonight,” a co-worker said to me after we’d finally closed up and all went out for something to eat just shy of 11:30 p.m.

I told her that I, without a doubt, felt we’d pulled it off on our end. The shop looked amazing, the desserts were top notch, and we ourselves looked great dressed up to the nines in red and black. I was and am very proud of what we did. “There is nowhere else in this town where people could have had the kind of dessert we made for this,” I replied. As true as that may have been, it really didn’t take away a level of disappointment from the work and planning and money invested into it.

We put up posters, we took out ads, we promoted it on our web site, and I even promoted it on my own site as well as emailed out to all my friends in town to let them know. We had flyers to hand out to our customers. On the day of the event, we had several regulars who repeatedly said they “hoped it would go well for us” but never came to actually help back up that alleged hope.

So, again, what was the event?

All of our desserts were based on “The Phantom of the Opera”, as was the decor. Along with two fruit spritzers and coffee, we served:

• The Curtain Call: Vanilla custard with cherry and dark chocolate truffle cream on a light sponge cake, covered in cherry truffle cream and dusted with imported cocoa.
• The Christine: A buttery almond cake with raspberry filling, covered in white chocolate truffle cream and topped with a hand-piped rose bud.
• The Raul: A light coconut mousse with chocolate truffle cream, drenched in passion fruit ganache on a light sponge cake.
• The Phantom: A rich flourless chocolate cake with hazelnut, covered in very dark truffle cream.
• Opera Cake: A traditional Opera Cake, an almond sponge cake soaked in coffee, finely layered between coffee buttercream, covered in rich milk chocolate ganache.
• The Music of the Night: Rich chocolate cake layered with apricot jam, covered in dark chocolate ganache.
• Truffles: Hand-rolled truffles that included Kahlua, London Fog (vanilla and Earl Grey tea), Amaretto, Bailey’s, Milk Chocolate, Passion Fruit, and Grand Marnier
• Silent Auction: We had two items available, a small raspberry and almond chantilly cake, covered in fondant, and an amazing chocolate grand piano sculpture filled with truffles.
• Art: I had several pieces, four of which were music-themed, in addition to the color series and five others on the wall. Anna had made the most amazing display cake for the window that featured intricate piping and string-work techniques. She also had a number of paintings she’d been working on. They were all tagged just like a “real” art show.

Each dessert was incredibly delicious, and was finished with great attention to detail, including sugar pearls and chocolate pieces. No one else in this town has anything like this on their menu.

No one.

There are, frankly, only a few places in the entire state of North Dakota that would even come close to what we offered last night.

At least the friends I invited came, to which I was very thankful. I enjoyed visiting with them very  much. And, Governor John Hoeven’s wife came, so that was nice. He has my vote.

I’m not angry, nor am I really surprised or even disappointed, because I had such low expectations for the participation. I am disappointed for my young co-workers because they have just had their first experience of pouring their creativity, sweat equity, and money into something and not seeing much in return. It is difficult to sort out what you feel, to not take it personally, and to step back and evaluate and decide what to do differently if at all.

If you’re from Bismarck and you’re reading this and you weren’t there, you missed out. You really, really did. I even wore a dress and heels.