Isn't a tart sort of a pie, too?

So yesterday when I asked my hostess if I could bring dessert for dinner last night, I didn't have anything particular in mind. I just knew I'd find something yummy. When I got her voice mail message a couple of hours later, I had more direction. It said, "There's been a request for fruit pie." Excellent! Now there were no huge decisions to make. Right?

Unless you're me. Sure, you're thinking, you may have to choose between fruits: apple, blueberry, black cherry, etc., but what's the big deal? Go get the man a pie, already! Easy as...well, you know. And you're right - it should have been that easy, too. But it's the use of the word "fruit" that threw me off. When I heard that word, instead of a specific fruit, I immediately pictured one of those round things that has rings and rings of many different types of fruit on top. I was delighted. This would be easy!

It wasn't until I was standing in front of the dessert case looking at a fruit-topped TART that I realized that's not what my host was jonesing for. I'd been imagining an entirely different dessert for the past hours. And it wasn't necessarily what I'd been asked to bring! But what if I was wrong? What if he'd also been picturing one of those luscious fruit-topped tarts? This is all they had!!!

Turns out, this was not all they had. A fellow patron of the Fresh Market heard my inquiry of the college dude who was gonna' happily serve me whatever I wanted, and she pointed over to a table several feet over. "They have amazing fruit pies over there." Ooh, the decisions!  Aah, the angst.

So I ultimately made a decision I was happy with. I bought a blueberry pie - with crust on top and one of those holes right in the middle, just like those in the picture books that go with the nursery rhymes - remember those pies with holes in the middle, in the children's picture book? AND I bought a 4 inch tart with all kinds of fruit on top. That way if my host really and truly was picturing what I'd imagined all day long, he could have what he wanted. And we would eat blueberry pie.

Turns out he was thrilled with the blueberry pie, although the tart was lovely, too.

Moral of the story: if you ever want me to bring something to your home for dinner? Be very specific. V e r y. I'll happily do my best to please you... But if you're not specific, you just never know what I'll turn up with.