Not About Pie

Surprise! Today’s post will not be about pie.

Today’s post will be about my super excitedness over the upcoming visit from my sister, L, who is flying in from New York on Thursday. Yea! She will stay with Mr. L and I for the weekend and I cannot contain my enthusiasm. Ever since she moved up to New York a couple of years ago, we have not had a lot of ‘sister time.’ And everyone who has a sister knows that sister time is the best.

To add more to the merriment, my brother (B) and his girlfriend (E) are joining us Saturday for an evening of cooking, movie watching, game playing, and general gaiety. B is even bringing his super special hot sauce and dry spices rub concoction that he created so we can make hot chicken. Boo yah.

You know what I love? I love that I will get to see my family in a non-holiday time of year with no holiday obligations. We can just chill. Since we all live so far apart, this visit will be super special to me. Super duper special.

I may even make a pie. (Sorry, I couldn’t resist)

Pie On My Face

Early this morning:

As I drove to work, late, and caught every possible red light, all the while watching blueberry pie juice dribble all over my passenger seat…I thought, “I’m done with pie.” This weekend I spent countless hours making pie dough, buying ingredients, preparing fruit, rolling out dough, assembling pie filling, baking, and cleaning my flour & pastry covered kitchen. I did this not because I had to, but because I wanted to. And it was an enjoyable activity, albeit exhausting.

It was all copacetic and worth my labors until I realized that my pies were coming out runnier than a nose in cold & flu season. What gives? My first pie came out perfectly…was it beginner’s luck? Were the pie stars in alignment the first go-round? Anyways, I decided to let them sit overnight and see if they would set. You guessed, it, they didn’t.

I baked a pie for Mr. L’s boss to earn him a few brownie (or pie) points. I was feeling pretty good about this idea. I had it all worked out…even though the pie was a bit on the free-flowing side, I cut out a piece of cardboard to place in a bag for level transportation. I kissed Mr. L goodbye this morning with a delicious feeling of success. He was going to surprise his boss with a pie. Sweet.

All optimistic thoughts drained from my head as I heard Mr. L’s key in the back in door and the words, “The pie is leaking,” slip from his lips. Damn! The worst part about it is that it leaked all over his shirt, down his pants, and pooled in the passenger side of his car. Damn! Damn!

I realized that my attempt to recreate my first perfect pie was akin to a drug addict; trying to experience the jubilation of my first pie-high…and never being able to do it. I was chasing the pie dragon. Panic ensued.

Mr. L called me at work and I advised him that I was done with pie. I thought his reaction was going to be, “okay, cool,” but it wasn’t. Instead he told me, “No you’re not. I am not going to let you give up. Don’t stop until you perfect your technique.”

And I think that’s pretty darn good advice and exactly what I needed to hear. Geez, I love that man!

So, henceforth, no more crying over spilled pie. I will continue my pursuit of pie perfection, which is great news for the butter industry. Full pie updates to come…