it seems simple enough. right? fast forward.
dear marie callendar's, you are a massive disappointment. i've never met a peach that i hated enough to wrap in your crust.
dear nations, i held out hope for you. i risked my heart on cherry, since i NEVER make cherry, myself. at first glance, i distrusted you, in spite of your weightiness. you seemed cheap. no offense. at first bite, you proved that first impressions are sometimes dead-on. and not even singing warrant's "cherry pie" in my head made you delectable. or cheerful. but, more, reinforced that cheap idea. no offense, warrant.
there seemed to be only one sure method of success: clone myself. send my clone on vacation. summon my clone home, refreshed, anxious to please, and ready to earn her keep (because cloning is kind of a pricey business). tell her of my yearnings for a delicious homemade pie. with a tender and buttery crust. and bursting with fresh fruit. she smiles and nods briskly. i can relax, knowing the pie of my dreams is in her (mostly) capable hands...
ah, reality. clones, as we all must know, don't eat. and as a result, don't cook. they're really selfish in that way. sure, they'll do your laundry with a certain amount of snottiness. and stare vacantly into space as they do your dishes. and silently curse you while they give you driving directions. but cooking is beyond them. baking, too.
it falls to me, then, friends. the real me. the world-weary me who in a moment of optimism bought a gigantic box of incredibly ripe strawberries. determined not to waste them. or deprive myself of pie-heaven for another 24 hours. i waited until the kids were in bed and began my task. rinsing, hulling, crust making (resting, rolling), mashing berries, cooking berries, baking crust... and at this moment you find me. blogging. teary-eyed. pot of strawberry-goulash on the stove. empty crust cooling. mascarpone cheese softening.
forgetting up until a few moments ago. it has to chill for another 3 hours. i better not find that stupid clone in my time machine dialing up 3 hours from now...
**side-note** it feels (really) likely that this post is ridiculous. and it will embarrass me in the future. i'm going to go with it, anyway. bear with me?
