I just can't seem to get enough of these lovely little red beauties. I hold the line when they cost an arm and a leg and wait until the price drops, then buy pounds and pounds of them. The people I live with do not have the same deep feelings for them that I do. What is wrong with these people?
My favorite ice cream as a kid was Biltmore's Cherry Vanilla. The milkman still came around back in those days. He came to my house twice a week in the summer. And if we were lucky and Mama Mildred had some extra money, we could buy a half gallon of ice cream. Finding big pieces of cherries was like winning a prize.
Today, my last day of summer vacation, I treated myself to lunch at the BFF's place of employment, Bull City Burger and Brewery. I love their burgers and I am no vegetarian, but I was craving the Market Burger, make of polenta, topped with shaved onions, lettuce, and red peppers, served on a housemade bun.
No fries for me because I was saving room for dessert. BCBB is now making their very own ice cream. And a certain BFF let me know that a new flavor would be making its debut today. Cherries macerated in porter ice cream.
Oh-- before I get back to cherries. Vice President Joe Biden was in beautiful downtown Durham today and I tweeted to invite him to BCBB for a beer, but he had other stops to make and probably didn't have time to check his Twitter account. I am sure he is a fan and follower of The Sabbatical Chef. Maybe next time?
Ok, cherries. Photos of cherries and creations I've made.
First, two instagram photos of the steel cut oatmeal and cherries I made for breakfast a couple of days ago--
Cherries at the market on Rue Cler in Paris.
Cherries bought at the Sunday market in Isle-sur-la-Sorgue for a picnic with some American and Frenchie friends.
Sam, the salesman, had cherries hanging from his ears and a melon on his head. A picture would be great, but the BFF can't find the truc to connect her camera to her computer and she has the photo of Sam as he gave me a kiss and a free cherry. He asked me to marry him, but he didn't really mean it. His wife was keeping the cash box and a watchful eye on him.
The BFF's cherry tart bought at a pâtisserie on Rue Cler. Come to think of it, I don't think I got a taste of this one. Hmmm...
Cherry clafoutis made for dinner with M. Pastis' mom who has spent the summer here in Durham, exchanging homes with friends of mine. Her home is in Cavaillon where the best melons in the whole world are grown.
Cherry scones for the Ex-Ex's Sunday breakfast.
Bonne Maman cherry preserves to serve with hot biscuits.
All recipes mentioned above can be found on the side of the blog. Well, not for the ice cream. Sorry.
Bon appétit, last day of summer vacation and les cerises!