We have more fresh fruit in the house than this place has seen probably in the entire 4 years I've lived here. And the fruit flies to prove it.

To deal with two quarts of rapidly deteriorating strawberries, I sliced and froze half of them for smoothies and set aside the good ones for strawberries and cream. Last night, after I wrestled the SWG account away from Rob to continue dying at the hands of goobers (ok, gubers; but I am like so sure I know who they're named after, cause they're cute and have dimples ;>), Rob decided to prepare the cream for the strawberries. I had bought a pint of real heavy whipping cream to use in our beautiful Kitchen Aid. Rob sighed and noted that if he had been with me, he'd have bought Cool Whip.

"They don't sell Cool Whip at Trader Joes," I said scornfully, to which Rob uttered something nonsensical to me about men and shopping and Cool Whip.

Rob tossed the pint into the Kitchen Aid, I added a bit of sugar, and he switched it on. Then he came to sit behind me and whine that I was hogging the SWG account and when would it be his turn, ::sigh::, since he was paying for it. Behind us there came a "thup-thup" sound, which made us both furrow our brows till we recalled the whipping cream. Rob dashes into the kitchen and puts his mouth on the side of his face.

"Er, I made..." he turns off the machine and pulls off the wire whisk, "...butter!" It's a very nice, sweet cream butter, on account of the sugar I added. We had it on our pancakes this morning.

It was pretty funny; we ended up having our strawberries with the cheesecake I also (thank goodness) got at Trader Joe's. :) All's well that ends with cheesecake!

We have more fresh fruit in the house than this place has seen probably in the entire 4 years I've lived here. And the fruit flies to prove it.

To deal with two quarts of rapidly deteriorating strawberries, I sliced and froze half of them for smoothies and set aside the good ones for strawberries and cream. Last night, after I wrestled the SWG account away from Rob to continue dying at the hands of goobers (ok, gubers; but I am like so sure I know who they're named after, cause they're cute and have dimples ;>), Rob decided to prepare the cream for the strawberries. I had bought a pint of real heavy whipping cream to use in our beautiful Kitchen Aid. Rob sighed and noted that if he had been with me, he'd have bought Cool Whip.

"They don't sell Cool Whip at Trader Joes," I said scornfully, to which Rob uttered something nonsensical to me about men and shopping and Cool Whip.

Rob tossed the pint into the Kitchen Aid, I added a bit of sugar, and he switched it on. Then he came to sit behind me and whine that I was hogging the SWG account and when would it be his turn, ::sigh::, since he was paying for it. Behind us there came a "thup-thup" sound, which made us both furrow our brows till we recalled the whipping cream. Rob dashes into the kitchen and puts his mouth on the side of his face.

"Er, I made..." he turns off the machine and pulls off the wire whisk, "...butter!" It's a very nice, sweet cream butter, on account of the sugar I added. We had it on our pancakes this morning.

It was pretty funny; we ended up having our strawberries with the cheesecake I also (thank goodness) got at Trader Joe's. :) All's well that ends with cheesecake!