Just Desserts

Today was our Church Picnic. Last year and again this year we decided to hold the picnic on the grounds of the church as opposed to a nearby Retreat Center. There were two rented inflatable water slides for the children, our Folk Group played mostly 70's music on the steps of the church, we had a booth where you could buy a chance to "slime" a staff member, and the church provided smoked chicken to go with our side-dishes.

This year, we had a dessert contest for children and one for adults. I decided to make my Amaretto Cheesecake that I developed a recipe for not long after Don and I were married, since cheesecake was his favorite dessert. I stayed up until 2:30 a.m. baking my cheesecake after Don and I got home from our date last night.

Deanna had talked all weekend about making strawberry shortcake for the contest but, 20 minutes before we were to leave for church, she hadn't started them yet. I should have known better than to assume we could get ANYWHERE on time.

She breezed into the kitchen and began the frantic process of making strawberry shortcakes. I have a pan that makes heart cakes (4) and she used it for the cake part. The strawberries were frozen, but she dutifully microwaved them and sliced them, then liberally sprinkled sugar on them. Wailing for whipped cream while pressing the shortcake dough into the pans, I realized it just wasn't happening. Either she'd have to give up her plan or we'd miss church.

We missed church. When we finally arrived at the picnic, she and I carried our creations into the Fellowship Hall.

"What are these for," a friend asked us.

"For dessert and for judging," I explained.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but we just finished the judging." I looked wide-eyed at Deanna. She stared back and I could see the lump in her throat.

"Are you going to cry?" I asked her gently. She shook her head vehemently, something she usually does just before she cries. "It'll be okay, honey. Everyone will still get to eat your dessert."

In my most encouraging tone, I talked her over to the dessert tables where we were met by one of the church staffers.

"Are these to be judged?" she asked me.

"Yes, but I understand we've missed the judging," I explained, one eye on Deanna's face to make sure she didn't lose it right there and then.

"Oh, don't be silly," she said. "There are still several judges around. We'll just make out a quick form, call them back, and have your desserts judged in a jiffy."

Deanna admitted later she was ready to cry and was only holding back the tears by shear willpower.

She told me just after claiming her certificate and $10 gift card to Breuster's Ice Cream for winning Best Dessert in Show.

I got a humble third place ribbon for my cheesecake.

And my friend, Terri, the church staffer who's the mother of a teenage girl, saved the day for us.

No crying in the shortcake.