In my pantry today:
- 4 oz cream cheese
- 6 oz non-dairy whipped topping
- 3/4 c confectioner’s sugar
- 1/2 tsp imitation butter extract
- 1 prepared graham crust
- 1 c minced strawberries
- 1 c halved blueberries
- 1/2 tsp white sugar
This one’s easy, especially with a food processor. I can’t justify constant sweets but what else can I do with all the healthy, color-rich berries in my fridge before they spoil? Specifically, these berries still had a few more days before skin-wrinkling, so the clock was ticking on doing anything that didn’t include throwing them into a smoothie. Soften cream cheese, then put it in the food processor with whipped cream, confectioner’s sugar and extract. Blend until smooth then pour into a pie shell you didn’t have to make (in some cases, not having to do the work makes things even more delicious). Gently massage a 1/2 tsp of white sugar into the berries you had meticulously sliced and top the pie. Let the whole shebang set in the freezer for as long as and as hard as you want your pie. Mmm. Pie.
Now, this is one of those big steps for me: I do not like berries. I don’t really much care for any fruit, truth be told. This is an obvious conflict of interest between my health and tastebuds, but by and large I imagine the taste regions on my tongue are a little skewed. My sensory reactions to things began to change around 2003, and for a long time the inside of my mouth (tongue included) was numb. What do these two things mean?
1. Sometimes a delicious meal set before me tastes entirely like dish soap. This won’t happen often, and it certainly wouldn’t deign to be a predictable occurrence.
2. So in the same vein of being able to set my hands in frying pans because I had no functioning pain receptors, once I downed an entire bottle of habanero syrup as a party trick. Because I am a vainglorious idiot. I didn’t feel it, but I did wake the next morning with acid burns that had removed part of the top layer of my tongue. Again, I couldn’t feel any of it; I just don’t really show off that particular muscle in public, which is a perfectly fine outcome by our culture.
What, you ask, do these things have to do with my ever-increasing distaste of fruit? I’m not a doctor (in case you weren’t certain) but I’m guessing the front and middle of my tongue is a little more out of the game than the “sour” receptors. Sour things curdle my face the way a shot of whiskey hurts a teenager’s disposition. I do not like them, condone them or want to see them in my home. And berries are sour as hell. Unless overly sugared or thrown in a smoothie, I want no part of most fruits. Don’t worry, dear readers — I love vegetables enough to cover the fruit thing. And there’s a box of powdered sugar ever at the ready in my cupboards.
And despite the whole “fruit” issue, this still earned 4 spoons.