In order to cut and serve a wet pie neatly, bake it in a shallow dish. Learn from my mistakes and don’t use a tall spring form – it’s a bad, bad idea! When lifting the side piece up, I pierced the crust and trickled the juices; when removing the bottom part, I tore off the entire base of the pie. What a mess! Maroon berry compote splattered around the kitchen and my dress.
Luckily I had photographed the pie when it was still hot and intact. These pictures would give me a narrative license to create a visual illusion and you would never have to know about the mishap! Or, so I thought before realizing I had accidentally – and very permanently – deleted the pictures from the camera. All of them.
I was unfocused. It was a hot day: I wanted to finish baking and photographing as soon as possible. I sweated, had heartburn and a headache. Funny, when the mind becomes distracted it storms all over the place although it should pause and re-evaluate. But, in the heat of the moment, it is too engrossed and ignores the little cues that forecast trouble. How many times have you neglected the flash of premonition that strikes the thought process just seconds before cutting a finger or dropping a glass? Often only a shock will halt a passionate mind. Breaking the pie and loosing the pictures did it for me.
Instead of baking and photographing again, I decided to deal with the mind. Interestingly, when it was calm, the failure no longer bothered me and I could happily share the crumbles with my husband. It seemed like a natural thing to do, and reminded me that cooking and eating are irreplaceable mediums of affection. The rest – in what form the recipes are presented in social media and how artful the images are – is less important.