" "

I am at a loss for words. After 24 years, my dad is closing up shop and saying goodbye. Except, of course - this being my dad, he's not really saying goodbye. I am. He wants me to write a letter to his landlord and his customers. This is a great idea, very gentlemanly. But here's the catch - how do I do that? How am I supposed to put into words what a blessing this is? How much we hated the store at the end? All while staying kind and thankful for business? I don't know how to write this letter.

This is unquestionably hard for me. I grew up there. I've known the other shop owners as they've rotated in and out of the building. I've seen Apple Core leave, Harrison's open, The Finish Line open and move, the diner change ownership, and so many other shops. Through those years, only Clement's and Charlie's have remained immutable. Yet as much love as I have for the entire building, I was afraid we would be immutable as well. I feared we would go down with the shop. And at times, it looked like we were.

Trying to write these letters is making me feel like I'm being raked over hot coals. It's difficult to express the appropriate regret when there really isn't any. There's only a deep sadness that this is the second part of my childhood gone. Even as my childhood is twisting it's heart, my adulthood is yelling good riddance and skipping away. There is no reconciling the two. And unfortunately, I can't write a letter expressing them both.

Summer 2009

What I've actually managed to do:

Read:

1. Chicken with Plums - Marjane Satrapi
   
2. The Penelopiad - Margaret Atwood
3. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood (Had to return it halfway through. Must resume.)
   
4. The Areas of My Expertise - John Hodgman

Watched:

1. T:SCC, all
2. Bones, S1
3. SGA, S1
   
4. Pushing Daisies, S1

I've started work on a crocheted blanket, but the finger got in the way. So it's obviously postponed indefinitely.

Pushing Daisies, Grape Pie, and Why My Family Sucks.

The essentials: I burned through S1 of Pushing Daisies with my sister on Friday. I first made grape pie for a friend last November. My family sucks.

Pushing Daisies: I love it. I love Ned. I love Chuck. I love Chuck's dresses. I love Kristin Chenoweth's bosom attempting to make a break for it every episode. I love Ned's hips. (Yes, they really do need to be separate from Ned himself. They're just so wonderfully set off by the little aprons... *ahem*) I love that Emerson gets to say "BITCH!" so often on network television. I love the coroner and his calculating "mhmmm"s. I love the whimsically not-dead people. I guess you could say I love everything about Pushing Daisies, from it's technicolor look to it's brilliant dialogue. That my eleven-year-old sister also likes it just happens to be a giant plus. (Also, how excited are we for the S2 discs today?? I actually yelled at the TV at the end of ep9 and rooted around looking to see if a fourth disc would magically appear. It speaks to how much better my sister knows me now that she did not look perturbed by this in the least.)

Grape pie. Ned is a pie maker. I have made pies. Pushing Daisies makes me want pie. Pushing Daisies makes me want to bake pies even more than Waitress. (And I have seen Waitress six times. What? It kept airing on HBO when I didn't have class...) My mom is having a baking contest at work, but being the organizer, she's not submitting herself. But being who she is, she wants to bring something anyway. Solidarity with the employees and whatnot. But being who she is, she orders me to bake something for her. And here's where the Pushing Daisies influence kicks in.
I have a friend from high school. His name is Donald. He is as weird as I am. Meaning he has spent a great deal of time pondering why his favorite fruit is not found in pie. Meaning he questions virtually everyone he gets to know on this matter. I promised him I'd bake him a grape pie as soon as my skills caught up to my ambition. He came to visit last November and I baked a pie. It was a most excellent pie, perfect filling, nearly perfect crust, and even better served cold. So I figured I'd make a pair of grape pies for mom cos the first one was so great.

I decided to do a test pie yesterday. A slightly smaller seven inch pie. You know, just to show everyone that I can make a pie with grapes and put qualms to rest. As it turns out, my family sucks. My roommates loved my pie last time. My family hates it. I'm pretty sure they cower in fear of it. I had to put it in the garage fridge they hated it so much. Which, fine. Grape pie may not be everyone's thing. But you don't have to tell me there's something wrong with it. It's a perfectly fine pie! Granted, it's a little too sour, but I was being considerate for the sugar conscious among us! (Lookin' at you, dad.)

*grumble* All of this means that this morning, I am going to try a blueberry pie instead. Cos apparently their consensus is that a blueberry pie would be spectacular whereas a grape pie is simply unnatural and must be sent back to the hellhole from whence it crawled. Which, fine. I'll eat my own damn pie.

Although if I'm making a blueberry pie, I'm pretty sure the laws of all that is good and holy and downright American county fair dictate it must be a lattice pie. I've been wanting to try that...

Top Chef Masters

I've never been a fan of reality TV. Unless it involves food. Cooked by people who know what they're doing. I also develop crushes based on people's abilities, often with absolutely no regard for looks. Cos I'm picky and not shallow like that.

I first saw John Besh on Food Network's Best Next Top Iron Awesome Chef the Man or whatever they called it. I wanted him to win because he has a great personality and seems to know what he's doing and doesn't have that weird and creepy Michael Symon laugh. Seriously. That thing weirds me out. (Another sign of utter roommate compatability, Tini is in total agreement. We didn't even watch it together! Came up in conversation!)

So channel surfing tonight, I immediately stop when I see Besh laughing and being self deprecating. I ended up watching all of Top Chef People Who Already Know How to Cook and Can Chop Off Your Ass. Liked it a lot. This is the kind of programming I wish Food Network would air. If I wanted to see amateurs cook, I'd drive to the nearest county fair. I used to watch copious amounts of Food Network. Granted, it was because Original Recipe Iron Chef was on a lot more, but still. You used to really cook, Food Network! Stop giving me people eating. And entertaining. And running. And bleeding. The bleeding is only ok on Iron Chef All of Them. If you keep this up, I'm gonna have to start watching Ming Tsai make really unappetizing fusion. At least he knows how to wield his Kyocera Santoku and doesn't use a damn Ginsu. (Just looked up what knife Rachel Ray uses to make sure it's not a Ginsu. Furi. Meaning I'm going to mock Christina to no end for loving her Furi knife MUAHAHAHA!)