I brought dessert to our friend Nick's barbecue on Saturday. Actually, I brought a homemade dessert to Nick's barbecue. Now, this doesn't sound like a feat worthy of writing on the internet to most, but to me, it was a small step towards conquering the fear of the kitchen. Of producing something that someone else other than Mike (who is sworn by an oath of marriage to eat things I make) was meant to enjoy.
Two weeks ago I had grand plans for this barbecue. I was going to make something festive, something patriotic, but then I realized flag cakes are tricky, and time consuming, and just a little on the wrong side of Martha so I started to panic.
Then Jenny posted about berry galette. A post with beautiful photos of an easy berry dessert and I was saved. I woke up Saturday morning and after a quick trip to the fruit guy on Broadway and the grocery store for dough I was preheated and making dessert. It took all of 45 minutes from prep to finish so a normal person would probably not boast about this, but it was big for me. A few hours later a chorus (ok, chorus might be pushing it) of ooooh's and ahhhh's sang out around the patio as my creation was devoured.
There is a pride that comes with a clean plate that cannot be matched by pretty packaging from a bakery. And I know it was only a simple dessert, but it's been inspiring. I feel just a little bit like a success story.