"Chocolate is my canvas": On the art of ephemeral pleasures

A winter day with phenomenal skiing weather. The slopes are fresh, the Bombardinos at the hut breathe fresh spirit back into the esprit. On the descent, the ground suddenly becomes rougher and the soft legs get to work, it starts to crunch under the skis—a mogul slope takes its start. As your eyes slowly open, the summery day brings you back to the here and now. The remnants of chocolate from a praline that chocolatière Eszter Lukenics has sweetly christened "mogul slope" melt in the mouth and, just like at the ski lodge, leave a hint of the fine eggnog with which they are filled.