Thirty-seven years ago, Mark and I had only been married a week when I decided I would surprise him with a homemade cherry pie. I picked the cherries from a neighbor’s tree and called Mark’s mom to find out how to make homemade pastry. It took me most of the day, but when I pulled the pie out of the oven it was just beautiful; cherries plump and pastry golden brown. When Mark got home I cut him a piece and couldn’t wait for him to take a bite. Alas, as he sampled my creation, a pained expression crossed his face as he spit out a stone. I suddenly realized that the reason the cherries looked so plump and perfect was because I’d forgotten to pit them.
Today, we find ourselves camping at Traverse City State Park, located in the Cherry Capital of the World. We missed the National Cherry Festival, by a few weeks, but there’s still plenty of homemade cherry pie available, hopefully guaranteed not to crack a tooth!
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