My mom knows my limits, thankfully, and only assigns me pie for the big meal on Thanksgiving. Because of the “only” one assignment I take it one step beyond control and destroy everything in my path in preparation. It’s great to start the holiday weekend sweaty.
I have been running to the store for several days now and every time I think I have the complete list of ingredients. I don’t, ever, but it’s fun pretending.
Tonight’s the big night though. I have to bake several pies before traveling tomorrow. As per tradition, there is gin involved.
I begin with washing my pie plates and subsequently drop an apple in the sudsy water. Extra clean! I then discover I own two apples for a pie that wants six. As any professional would do, I move to the pumpkin pie and swear a little.
So the parts are combining on my first pumpkin pie and I realize I’m also out of one of the spices. Now I have two pies unable to move forward and I’m at least a gin in so I’m not driving.
Send Captain S to the grocery store for more apples, that one spice, and a few stragglers (he’s my hero).
Okay after his return I quickly prep apples and wouldja lookit this
It doesn’t have perfect lines but as I say in most of my projects, “whatever. It’s edible.”
Okay now I’ve moved on to borderline burning the first pumpkin and the apple recipe says to quote cover the crust with tinfoil unquote so I do as I’m told and WTH they end up sprouting all over the oven before I can even close the damn door.
Daughter tries to muffle her giggling as I begin extracting slices of hot tinfoil from the 425-degree sweat-inducing heat box. There is swearing but she doesn’t know that.
Then THEN the family thinks they need dinner and it requires the oven and all of a sudden my baking is done for a while. There is a raw pumpkin pie jiggling on the stove needing to be baked before that crust is ruined.
Fast forward through dinner, I now have three pies crisply baked a little beyond their desired doneness but the gin floweth freely during round one of pies so I really don’t care.
You weren’t here for baking tips were you? That’s on you.