Crazy Week

I screamed almost every day this week. It was not a bad week, just insanely crazy and unbelievable. Jars melting, waiting forever for the dishwasher to fill while, all the time, it was actually emptying, almost forgetting to place an order, both ovens going out, the new Sysco delivery driver telling me to stay pretty and not become a nun, and pieces of the rusty washing machine lid falling in all combined to make this a week wherein I question my sanity. Meanwhile, I've had to go back to classic stand-by meals because I've just been drawing a blank when it comes to menus. Desserts, however, are another story. I was so excited about desserts that I didn't bother trying to decided which one to make. I just made them all!
Whole lemon tart made with pâte sucrée was a new recipe I had to try to see if I could do it...you know...for my education. The pâte sucrée was amazing! Buttery, crumbly, and sweet (but not too sweet), I ate probably half a tart's worth before it even made it to the oven. The filling was super simple but, I thought, too much. Imagine, if you will, a dear little shortbread cookie with a dollop of lemon curd...yeah, that would have been the perfect balance. Speaking of cookies, that's probably what will happen to the pâte sucrée I will have left from making tarte au chocolat this week, that is, assuming I don't eat it all raw.
I had been craving peach blackberry pie with homemade vanilla ice cream all summer until I finally went of the deep end and decided to have it the same day we were making about twenty dozen cookies, the same week I made two chocolate cakes because, here's the best frosting I've ever had that I've been eating with a spoon, and how much trouble would it be to just make some cake to celebrate Rachel's visa and Luc's acceptance to Verity. Back to the pie. Peach blackberry was what I wanted, but how could I resist throwing in some plums and strawberries I just happened to have on hand? I couldn't. I borrowed the crust from my apple pie and 'winged it' for the filling. No lattice crusts on these babies, not that I'd been planning to, but I couldn't have even if I wanted because, just as I was filling the third and final pie, I realized I had yet to put my order in, didn't even have a list, did I even have a menu, it's due in an hour, and it usually takes me an hour or more. I passed the top crust baton to someone else (they turned out beautifully) and, after running around like a chicken with my head cut off, finished my order in twenty-five minutes. The pie was as perfect as I imagined it could be. Tender summer fruit hid beneath a sugar-sprinkled crust that stayed crisp even under a lopsided pillow of half-melted ice cream that dripped down the edges to mingle with the sweet juices. Wow. How's that for summer?

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