Poor Roommate. She’d get home from grad school, open the fridge, and see a covered pie plate where there hadn’t been one before. She’d hope against hope that it would be chocolate pie, or key lime pie, or pecan pie, or anything at all except what it was: a tart starring her least favorite fruit- the tomato.

I’m so sorry, Roommate. I should have put a sticky note on it or something, to avoid shattered dreams.

Because OMG I LOVE THIS THING SO MUCH. It’s savory and not sweet, which I admit is a departure from my usual M.O., but seriously: it’s amazing. I would eat it for breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner. I love it enough that I’m willing to crank up my poorly-insulated oven and make one even though it’ll turn the front half of my apartment into a Bikram studio. You take a flaky pie crust, layer it with Dijon mustard, sliced tomatoes, rounds of goat cheese, and a mix of fresh herbs, and then you drizzle honey on top before sliding it into a super hot oven. Does the honey give you pause? It did for me, but I was young and foolish to worry. Instead of tasting weird, it tastes magnificent. It’s the sort of thing Imaginary Sweets would whip up for lunch with a green salad and lots of white wine with her Imaginary Dashing European Boyfriend in the charming kitchen of their cottage somewhere in a valley by the sea with a garden and probably also cats. With sassy lingerie drying on a line in the sun, obviously.  Imaginary Sweets suffers from no shortage of unrealistic expectations. Continue reading →