Tart Tales: A Happy Ending

Dear Yesterday Me,

I know you’re really stressed about that tart crust, but I want you to see how pretty it turned out anyway!

Isn’t it stunning? And you thought you were a failure!

Ok, well you were a failure in some ways. Don’t get me wrong: it looks beautiful. People at the party will gawk and gape at your creation. They’ll take pictures and fight over who gets first dibs.

And when they eat it, they’ll mostly be happy. “Mmmm,” they’ll say, “Good job, Adam.” Or: “Wow, I like this–it’s the raspberries that really make it.”

But then Patty will get your number. “I liked it,” she’ll say, after a few glasses of wine, “only the pastry itself was a little dense. Kind of like a brick.”

Stay calm, yesterday me. I know she hits you in your sore spot but you can tell her: “Patty, I overworked my gluten, ok? I’m not perfect!”

And besides: it looked so pretty. And the pastry cream was terrif, if a bit too subtle. You’re going to have so much fun piping it into the crust. Isn’t Alton Brown a genius? Don’t you love his advice—buy the piping tips (they cost only a few dollars, remember?) and then insert one in the bottom corner of a freezer bag, cut the corner off and you have your piping bag set up. But I don’t have to tell YOU that, yesterday me. Though a picture will be nice:

The best part, yesterday me, is that when you’re done piping into the crust you can (and don’t tell anyone this!) pipe some directly into your mouth like the fat kid does with the whipped cream in The Goonies. (I almost called him Chunk, but he’s not Chunk…who is he again?)

In conclusion, perk up yesterday me. Life’s not so bad. We all make mistakes. Oh: don’t forget to carry an umbrella in the morning, it’s going to drizzle. And as for the man you’re going to murder, don’t hide the body in your closet! The blood drips through the floorboards!

Stay in touch. Be cool. Stay in school. All my love,

Present Me