Anyone who knows me knows I am sort of a sweets fiend. Cookies, cakes, candy bars, pies, tarts, cobblers, cheesecakes...I love them all. I try to be good and resist, but it just doesn't feel like a real meal to me unless I eat something sweet for dessert. Even a mint or gum will do in a pinch, but nothing beats the satisfaction of a sweet baked good to cleanse the palate after a savory meal.
I'm sure this comes from the family I was raised in. My mother makes super-delicious desserts, and plenty of them. In my house the words "what's for dinner?" were never uttered. It was always, always "what's for dessert?" because it was essential to know what was for dessert in order to plan how much of our dinner we would eat. You see, we needed to save room for the goodies that were to come at the end of the meal!
[Sidebar: I brought my college boyfriend home for a weekend with the family. Knowing he wasn't a huge fan of dessert (which should have been the first sign we weren't going to work out) I warned him that we would have dessert at every meal, even breakfast, but he didn't have to eat it just to be nice. He sort of laughed at my notion that we ate dessert at every meal until, the next morning at breakfast, my mom pulled out the homemade cinnamon rolls after we were done eating our main meal. I warned him...]
I seem to have inherited this love of baking from my mother, and there is nothing that makes me smile or calms me down as much as baking something. It also makes me completely neurotic at times when things don't go perfectly, but you take the good with the bad I suppose. I don't have a lot of people to share my baked goods with, so I don't bake as often as I would like and sometimes it just KILLS me not to make something when I see a delicious dessert on the Food network or on a blog. Normally that subsides, but lately I've been assaulted by visions of dessert from other, less germane sources: TV shows and movies.
These sweet assaults are coming from three distinct places:
- This weekend LL Cool A and I went to see the fabulous Lars and the Real Girl. (I mean FABULOUS.) It takes place in a nondescript Midwestern setting that feels a lot like Minnesota or Wisconsin and all of the little details of living in a town like that were perfectly realized, right down to the strawberry Jello salad someone brought to a potluck. As soon as I saw that Jello salad I immediately craved it and the memories of all of the Jello salads I've eaten over the years came rushing back to me. I don't even like Jello that much! Probably because it's not a dessert. Jello is a side dish, don't let anyone tell you differently -- anyone who eats Jello for dessert is missing out on actual dessert. Still, Jello is sweet and man do I want some crappy Jello salad.
- I rented the also fabulous Waitress from Netflix and man, does that movie make you want to bake a pie. It is a cornucopia of awesome pies. Enough pies to fulfill even the most ardent pie fetishist. Pie porn, if you will. I really, really want "Earl Murders Me Because I'm Having An Affair Pie." (Smashed blackberries and raspberries in a chocolate crust, and I am drooling just thinking about it.) The best part of Waitress is not the pies, however, but the awesome cover of Howard Jones's "No One is to Blame" that plays over a key scene.
- Pushing Daisies. It's like an hour of pie love, direct in your living room each week. The restaurant is shaped like a pie, for heaven's sake. Cup pies with honey baked in the crust? Apple pie with cheese baked into the crust? Yes, please.
I suppose the way to get this sweet assault out of my system is to start doing some baking again. Don't be surprised if I show up on your doorstep with a variety of goodies, ring the bell, drop the treats and run like hell so I don't have to hear all of you L.A. skinnies saying "I don't know, I really shouldn't keep them at my house!" It's the holidays! You're supposed to gain 10 pounds.
Right?