La Cocina es bonita. The Kitchen is beautiful. Jackie, Samantha, Stephanie, and I spent all weekend painting the living room and dining area. They are bright vivid colors, and we love them. We decided to call our apartment "La Concina." Why? Because the four of us have dedicated ourselves to the culinary arts this year. And we are inviting people to help us enjoy the experience. Last week I baked two buttermilk pies: my momma's specialty. Oh Momma! Your pies are magic. What a pleasure it was to watch my friends wolf those slices down. It made me want to bake a pie a day.
In the movie, Waitress, the main character is constantly creating new pie recipes in her mind. They have fabulous names like "Don't want no damn baby apple pie." Another character in the movie spouts off spontaneous poems to his lady love. They are usually awful, but sweet. Here is my own awful, bittersweet spontaneous pie poem:
I was in the mood for lovein'
instead I baked a pie
sugar and flour fill me up
better than any guy
melt the butter, whisk the eggs
pour it in a pan
takes away the heartache
caused by every No-Good Man
brown the crust until it flakes
set the timer right
forget about that true love's kiss
just take a fork and bite!
*this poem is not to be taken seriously and should be ignored by any attractive bachelor.....especially the foreign ones...if you are a handsome fella with a gorgeous accent, you have special permission to sweep me off my feet.
2 comments:
Okay: buttermilk pie is probably one of the best things imaginable. You plan on making it again anytime soon? If so, please let me know.
There is magic in those pies. Didn't I tell you?
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