This past Sunday, I found strawberries at the market, the first of the season. They were sort of obscenely expensive, but I bought three cartons anyway. Really, can you blame me? They smelled and tasted divine. I could very well have eaten them all, by myself, as they were, but I'd already promised to bring a dessert to a party that night. Since I was too busy mooning over my strawberries to do anything as laborious as mixing a tart dough, I decided to swing by my local bakery and see if they could part with some. They didn't have pastry dough, but offered me some croissant scraps instead. I went with it. The result was quite a hit.

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