Not looking back at pie; looking back at what I wrote about self-publishing 15 months ago.
But you guys, I made the most epic pie yesterday. I bought eight pounds of concord grapes for making jelly, and with the leftovers I made a pie. I did not expect this pie to change how I looked at all other pies forever -- to change, in fact, how I looked at life. And then I made this pork loin roast that was to die for, and I didn't follow a recipe. It involved gorgeous halved pears, roasted right alongside the pork, atop a bed of red onion wedges, oh god, oh god. The fat on the top of the roast formed, with the sea salt and cracked pepper and rosemary I sprinkled there, a crunchy crust, and when you took a bite of pear with a bite of pork the experience was transcendent.
I think I am actually getting really good at cooking.
Don't worry; I don't intend to turn this into a food blog or anything like that, but this particular blog does double as my personal journal (as evidenced by all the eye-rollingly sappy things I write here about my dude) so maybe once in a while I might have to share some of my culinary conquests with you. I promise to make them all very writerly*. It will be as if James Joyce started a food blog.
Over at Lavender's blog, I looked back at my opinions and expectations re: self-publishing The Sekhmet Bed, and I declare myself a hardcore indie from now on. Viva la 70% royalty rate!
It's long, so don't bother to read it.
Now I am going to go have a big fat slice of that concord grape pie for breakfast. How bitterly I regret my jelly; I should have made eight pounds of pie filling and frozen it so I could have this again. Maybe the fruit stand still has some concords left. WHY must they be so fleeting a fruit?
*not an actual promise.