I've had cheese souffle weighing on me of late, and, since it's light as a feather, that obviously hasn't been too much of an ordeal.

I was reminded how much I love it when, earlier this summer, Strother made some divine individual ones for Evie's birthday.  I mean, what can be more festive, more delicious, or make more of a dramatic appearance than a souffle bursting forth from its ramekin?  The entry of the frowzy beauty straight from the oven is thrilling.  Knowing that her bouffant will quickly flop adds to the excitement.  The necessity of leaping in before the fall means that a certain informality, and spirit of fun, suffuses any meal where souffle makes her all too rare, as far as I'm concerned, appearance.

I can't think of anything more appealing to eat right about now than tomato pie.  My pal Suzette has been whipping them up for the last few weeks and swooning about how divine they are.  Her rampant enthusiasm meant that I'd been meaning to rustle up one of my usual yummy ones anyway, when I had a spot of inspiration yesterday.    We just returned from a stellar weekend at the Homestead which afforded all sorts of over-the-top culinary experiences when we weren't mindlessly floating around in the Jefferson Pools in Hot Springs.  Anyway, yesterday when I reached for one of the frozen homemade dough balls I keep handy to make a pie whenever the mood strikes, I had a flash of a particularly tasty pimento cheese sandwich I ate at tea in the Grand Hall on Sunday.   A new taste treat was born.