Here is another prompt-based draft. The idea was to write about someone who is a fanatic or otherwise meticulous about something. I don't know if this fits the bill exactly, but it's what I came up with. And while I'd like to work on some other projects, I figure that any impetus to write about food is probably good for me.
Sleeping It Off
At night his dreams taste of lavender
shortbread or lemon curd laced
with thyme while sunlight spreads
through steamed glass, a bright glaze
on the counters, the bread boards
and the marble slab, the slack bag
set beside its row of pastry tips,
each shape its own language.
One block holds the knives,
another stores flat spatulas.
All the shiny cups and spoons line up
by their sizes—so many ways to measure.
Simple syrup simmers in a pan.
The chocolate ganache is as dark as night.
The cupcakes are small pillows
of almond and orange.
So many flavors to make.
Each sugared rose petal, each fondant leaf
becomes a world in itself,
a morsel of heaven.
As much as he rushes and stirs,
he is falling behind the heat.
Hurry, the oven timer clangs.
The edges of the madeleines are singed.
But oh, the meringue, how it floats
in the custard, a lake—no, an ocean
and now he is drowning.