425? Isn’t that a little high? he asked, coming out of the kitchen last night.
You start out that high and then turn it down halfway through so the crust won’t burn. Thank you for reminding me–I’d better go do that.
I walked in there just as the end timer went off.
The goofy expression I’d given it on a whim because why not: it suddenly fit. An emoji cherry pie trying to smile.
We polished off half of it for breakfast. Minus the burns.