I will be honest with you, I made this pie about three weeks ago, so it has taken me more than a while to post about it and if I wait any longer, berry season will be over although it is just starting!
Blogging has taken a bit of a back seat in the past week or so. I have been spending long hours in the office and a lot has been going on. I feel like I am stuck in some TV show where people wear power suits and talk about mergers, acquisitions, migrations, black out periods and financial jargon that I don't even know how to use appropriately most of the time. So far so good, but I suspect there will be some ugly susprises ahead.
The few moments when I did have a chance to blog, my absolute priority was reviewing Tori's book because she had been so sweet to send it to me immediately and I was afraid that with everything that was going on it would, unjustly, sit on my desk for weeks before I got another chance.
So here I am now, posting about pie when pie is the last thing I can eat these days.
The time has come for me to cut down on calories and get in some extra exercise. It has been raining so much lately, I haven't been keeping up my normal running schedule and the winter months (I like to convince myself it was just them) have left their mark. My tummy is growing at an alarming pace and seems to have taken on a deceptive shape.
You know your no-pie time (perhaps this is a good instance to use the phrase black out period???) has come when two people (men for Pete's sake!) in three days enquire about your, ehm ...ripening state.
So, fine. You laugh it off when the octagenarian hanging out on a bench while you are helping your kid with his dangerously melting ice cream cone asks you whether your next one is a boy or a girl (trying to ignore the fact that this is usually a question people ask when you are visibly pregnant, definitely more than 4 months). After all, said octagenarian has little else to do all afternoon and he did witness the combined lethal effect of bending over AND forgetting to suck in your stomach whilst concentrating on dark dark chocolate dripping all over the place. It has happened before and it will happen again (although admittedly you had hoped not quite so soon). Big deal!
But when you are on your morning run and another runner crosses your path and gesticulates at your stomach with a surprised yet admiring look as if to say "expecting and running - you go girl!"...
That, Mr., is what I call crossing the line. Why the f*** do you think I am out running at 6am if not to get rid of that belly which, incidentally, is not THAT big???
Mental note to self: don't feel too good about yourself when all that running you have been doing starts giving you more shapely legs because apparently when the whole of you was out of shape, at least you looked fat and not pregnant!
So yes, I am not eating pie these days, but a girl can dream, can't she? Delicious flakey, buttery crust, warm cinnamony apples, juicy bursting berries, sweet crimson juices and cold vanilla ice cream... just make it because you can, will ya?
