Not to crack. There’s no crack in this pie. “Crack” is being used in a hyperbolic sense in the title to allude to the degree of addictiveness this pie will impart on your mind and soul. (I always feel more eloquent than I actually am when I use words like ‘hyperbolic’)
But as far as I’m concerned, they could have called it “Nutella Pie” and it would have the same effect on me.
I’m addicted to nutella. (I can’t stop baking with it.)
and terrible romantic comedies. (No Strings Attached is a poor man’s Friends With Benefits. I knew this going in and I watched it last night anyway.)
and staring at cute shoes online with my mouse over the ‘Add to Cart’ button. (I just bought the LAST PAIR of these last week. omg so exciting.)
Holy crap guys, Pinterest!
One day, carpooling on the way home from work with Trevor and Joe, we decided to indulge a little with a stop at New York Cupcakes, our favourite cupcake joint in town. (Fellow Seattlites, if you like Cupcake Royale better, I can accept that. If you like Trophy better? I’m afraid we need to have a talk.) “Indulge” may be the wrong word because it makes it sound as if it’s unusual for us to stop and get cupcakes on the way home when we carpool.
It’s usual for us to stop and get cupcakes on the way home when we carpool.
Luckily for my waistline, Joe has some crazy work hours most of the time and we don’t usually carpool.
Anyway, this one particular day the cupcake shop was closed early due to an impending snow “storm” (2-in snow = “storm” in Seattle). I can still picture it clearly, Joe reading the handwritten sign, raising his fists in the air and howling in agony outside their doors at his discovery. A lone worker cleaning up shop heard his pained exclamation and quickly moved to the door, a box in hand. It was box full of half a dozen cupcakes.
Half a dozen free cupcakes, in apology for the early closure.
They all were the same flavour, but we didn’t care, they were free. Also, as we soon discovered, it was the sort of flavour you didn’t mind having six of. A moist chocolate cake, frosted with chocolate buttercream, topped with a layer of crushed pretzels and drizzled with caramel. Through a mouthful of cupcake, I asked Trevor what his opinion was of a full-sized chocolate/caramel/pretzel layer cake. He turned me down in favour of a different idea.
“A chocolate pretzel pie” he declared.
Are you a good dipper?
No, I don’t mean skinny dipper. This is a family show people.
I love getting inspired by a good farmer’s market. Fruits of all colours, honey from local bees, fresh cider…
or alcoholic cider in this case.
Crêpes. Crêpes filled with delicious goodness for lunch, not just dessert.
That last part wasn’t really as much about farmer’s markets in general, but it’s part of my farmer’s market and it’s very important.
It’s the time of year for my local farmer’s market to have raspberries. Deeply coloured raspberries, glinting in the sun like baskets of rubies. How does one deny such a find?
You don’t. Not on your crêpes or in your baking. You give in, and you enjoy.