Did I really eat three dozen desserts?

In an earlier post, I asked what fool would take on the judging responsibilities in a dessert-making contest in one’s neighborhood. Of course, in the end, I did agree to do it and, along with two co-judges, I picked what appeared to be the all-around best entry.

Reactions from the non-winners? One neighbor came up and explained that hers was an old and treasured recipe, passed on through generations, and it was okay that it didn’t win since it had already received accolades and praise and recognition elsewhere. Another wondered if I had had a chance to sample all layers of her creamy concoction, since there were surprise elements throughout, all the way to the delicious bottom of the dish. Finally, a child asked if my name card, which said “Hi, I’m Nina” with the scribbled line underneath “I can be bribed” was for real or whether I was joking (I assured him that it was for real). Unfortunately that attempt at humor was severely tested when it turned out that I had picked as number one (a cheesecake with a yin-yang fruit jelly design) the dessert made by immediate neighbor, a person on whom I rely for countless small favors throughout the year.

Other highlights from the evening include finding out that my block is less politically mixed than I had imagined. There’s hope! And yet another surprise – yes, there are others who think it great fun to sit on plastic chairs in the middle of a (blocked off) street until 2:30 a.m. speculating if we were doing in life what we had, in our youthful dreams, imagined we would want to do.