A LA MODE: topped with ice cream
It looked and smelled good. It tasted great. It was a miracle.
Yesterday was the first time I’ve made a pie without crying or cursing.
I can bake cookies:
I can preserve fruits and vegetables:
I can make a birthday cake:
But, until twenty-four hours ago, I had never successfully made a pie.
When my mother-in-law told me she was taking me to a pie making class with her mom and sisters as part of my birthday present, I was nervous. I wasn’t nervous about being the worst pie pupil; I just didn’t want Granny to hear me use the F-word.
Pie crust and profanity go together for me:
Flour, butter, sugar, water. Mix. Attempt to roll. Pull sticky chunks off rolling-pin. Curse. Sprinkle counter and rolling-pin with flour. Try again. Make amoeba shape that fails to properly fill pie plate. Curse. Try again. Sprinkle everything liberally with flour and F-word. Discover I have added too much flour and dried out crust. Add moisture from tears. Piece together mix of dry and soggy lumps in pie pan. Curse. Tell Husband we need to swing by the store for a dessert before the dinner party.
But, last night I made this:
No swearing. No tears.
Thank you Chris Porter at A La Mode Pies! Your pies were delicious and your teaching engaging. Your snickerdoodle ice-cream recommendation rocked my world. In just a couple of hours you transformed me from pie-phobic to pie-curious.
Most of all, I’m just so incredibly relieved that I didn’t swear in front of Granny.