Monday and Tuesday are my days off. This is the logical time to do some serious bread experiments. But Monday got eaten up by other errands. Sadly, life must go on with all her mundane chores.
In the afternoon Sophia came over, and we had a serious talk. I explained to her that from our previous meeting with Mike and Blake I was getting an image of what the wanted, and that it amounted to just riding the wave of the current trend and expecting to make a big splash by adding a small twist.
What I had in mind was something new, a whole new concept. Maybe it would start a new trend, maybe it wouldn't.
She told me Mike was eager to sell his home in Suzhou and his current business, and move to Changzhou to take over the 'bakery'.
I said that was entirely too much pressure. If he did that, he would soon be forcing us to conform to the existing successful model in order to earn him some money.
Our model needed time, at least a year, before we could expect to see any kind of growth and profit.
In China, people open up new shops without market research, following a trend, and quickly the business folds. If the person has a large circle of friends and family, the business has a slightly better chance of succeeding. At the shopping center area where I work, there are five shops in a row offering coffee in one version or another. All are espresso based, and the customers probably seldom actually order coffee. That's another story.
Sophia said Mike wanted to know what I expected his role to be. Sophia also asked the same question about herself. Mike's message to me was: will he be the manager of the shop, or do I simply want him to be my supplier of bread flour, in which case of course he'd take his profit.
I said, for the moment, the latter.
After she left I made supper. I was very tired, but I forced myself to put together a sponge for tomorrow. I put it in the cat-proof microwave, and crawl between the sheets. I hoped I'd read for an hour and then transfer the sponge to the fridge. But I fell asleep after a few pages.
The phone on my nightstand gave a chirp. A text message arrived. It woke me; it was from Tim, "I'm still up, you wanna Skype?" It was 11:15 pm.
I didn't answer the message, but did retrieve the batter and put it in the fridge, well within the four-hour limit. Thank you, Tim.
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