The other day I was serving lunch at Bean's Cafe and I was totally jonesing for a piece of the pumpkin pie we were dishing out for dessert.
They usually encourage us servers to have a little of whatever we're serving, especially if there are leftovers, but I don't know. Seems in poor taste to snake food from the needy.
They serve pretty good meals there and I often find myself walking away hungry for whatever was on the menu -- I'm pretty sure it's the only soup kitchen in the country where the clients are bored of all the salmon that's donated by local seafood companies. Sigh. Salmon again? Sigh.
So this weekend I made my own pie. And I have a confession about those pumpkin dog biscuits I posted about a few days ago. Sadie was reluctant to eat the first one I handed her -- she sniffed it, trying to decide whether it was food or not, then took it gingerly from my hand, as if she was only doing it to humor me. Then she took it out to her pillow. I thought she ate it so I gave her another one. That one disappeared so I gave her one more, so happy that she liked the cookies I baked for her with my own two hands. Think of the money I'll save on dog treats, I thought to myself.
It wasn't until she hopped up to go outside that I saw she was laying on the cookies. All of them. Broken hearts pressed into the indentation in the pillow where her body once snuggled. It was so sensitive of her to hide the evidence of her distaste for my doggie baked goods, don't you think?
And it wasn't until this morning when I gave her a nibble of pumpkin pie that she got it. She understood the pumpkin and peanut butter dog biscuit. Pumpkin! She needed more.
She likes the biscuits now.
But she'd rather have pie, especially if it's for breakfast -- a girl after my own heart.