Cooking for pleasure.

It has been my experience bakers are divided, you are a pie person, or you are a cake person.
I am the latter. I do not like to make pies, nor do I enjoy eating them. The crust on a fruit pie is a waste of calories. It's not that I find making a crust challenging, and mixing fruit and sugar is a no-brainer, perhaps therein lies the problem: Pie is boring. There is very little excuse for sparkle on a pie, they do not keep well and are generally, well, messy. And then there is that whole soggy bottom thing. I think that about covers it.

Last night my darling pitted a quart of sour cherries. I was thinking jam, he was thinking pie.

When I came down to a quiet and very tidy kitchen this morning at 5:30, I headed for the coffeemaker.
Low and behold, plunked right in the middle of the marble island, a pie plate! Subtle isn't he? Okay, I thought in the still quiet of this kitchen I will immerse myself in baking a cherry pie. Pitting cherries is no picnic and a blue polo shirt is soaking as I type, proving it is exceedingly messy as well. As I blended the flour and butter, rolled and cut I revisited my stand, cooking, at it's best is a labor of love. In case the "here is your favorite, a cherry pie, I made it just for you" did not satisfactorily express my sentiment I plastered the top with cut out hearts. I toyed with a lattice, they are so intriguing and nearly went for the twisted lattice but in the end used my favorite cutters to make my message loud and clear. I LOVE YOU.

Making a heat mosaic, dotting it all with butter and a light sprinkling of sugar...a feeble attempt at sparkle, fed my soul. Being old enough to know, this is what I need to keep life exciting: Soul Food. The pie was ready to be baked, hot oven, bottom rack, fifty minutes, just like the book said. Long enough to grab a towel, dash outside to enjoy a shower just as the day was beginning, score 2 for the soul! No matter which side of the fence you fall, cake or pie, I must conclude baking a pie is a pretty sweet way to start the day.

So the pie was ready to face the day about the same time as I was. All day the pie lived on top of the refrigerator, and I felt like I was keeping a secret.
With great anticipation when Darling came through the door I held the pie out. Look! Look what I made for you today. When I teased him about leaving the big hint, he looked incredulous and told me no, it had not been a hint at all, he just didn't know where the pie pan lived. Strike 1. I ignored all that, and gleefully pointed out all the hearts. He thought they were butterflies. Strike 2. Here's hoping when he actually eats the pie there will not be a strike 3. The Cherries were pitted, the pie was baked. It was a very good day. One good turn does deserve another.