Humble Pie

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I’m not much of a dessert person. Don’t get me wrong – if it’s there, I will eat it, but I don’t crave it. Dessert has never been my weakness – I can pass on it quite easily. But for some reason, when fall rolls around, it starts appealing to me a little more. I think because the type of desserts you see in fall tend to appeal to me more – I don’t care much for cookies & cakes, but the fruity, tart flavors of fall pies are what I love. Six pounds of chocolate can sit uneaten, but if it has apricots or berries or apples in it, suddenly, I want dessert.

So, when I was in a grocery store last week and saw some lovely, tart, locally-grown apples, I decided I needed to make an apple pie. I’m not much of a baker, except for when it comes to pie. I make a mean apple pie. And berry pie. And (OMG) harvest pie (apples & mixed berries). So, I knew I would want to splurge a little. I had a busy weekend, and knew I couldn’t make the pie until Sunday evening, so watched what I ate all weekend, since I knew one piece wouldn’t be enough.

All day Sunday at Emily’s game, I sat in the freezing cold and rain, thinking about the warm, delicious apple pie that I would be having soon. I decided I wanted lots of cinnamon this time – cold fall weather is perfect for it. The thought of this pie is seriously what got me through the long, miserable, cold, wet day outside.

As soon as we got home, I got started peeling and rolling and cutting and mixing. And not to brag, but this pie turned out better than any pie I have ever made. It came out of the oven looking perfect – fluffy & golden brown, smelling like heaven. Finally, when it was cool enough to cut, I got everyone a slice and my son was the first one to have a taste.

“What’s in this pie? It tastes spicy,” he asked.

I know how he is – always being picky about some silly thing, so I told him that I did put a lot of cinnamon in this time, but that certainly wouldn’t make it spicy.

And then I tasted it. He was right – it did taste spicy! I was mad. Something must have been wrong with that cinnamon!

By the time I ran to the cupboard and grabbed the bottle of cinnamon, I went from a tingle of spice on my tongue to an entire mouth and throat irritated and completely on fire.

And then I saw what was wrong with the cinnamon:

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Clearly, I am a genius. And I’m still craving apple pie!

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About sugarmag

Forty-sdjhfkjsdhfkjsdh year old mom of 2 - a 18 year old boy and a 11 year old girl. I love them very much, but they drive me crazy. I'm married and work full-time. I'm not sure which of these is the most exhausting, but probably the husband. I'm opinionated. I'm outspoken. I'm loud. I'm an over-sharer. I think Tom Cruise is a jackass. I like to say jackass. I like to swear, period. Fuckers. I love to read. I struggle with my weight. I love my job. I dress my pets up and ridicule them regularly. I am not afraid to cut my hair and I don't understand people who are. I hate getting old. I love to laugh. Make me laugh, OK?

2 responses »

  1. Oh, dear. And ouch. The closest I come to this is: I was making a salad recently (my girls love salad), and I cut up what I thought was a sweet red pepper. Both the girls freaked out when they took bites of salad. One sample of that red pepper, and I knew why.

  2. Hahaha that is pretty amazing. I’ve made blunders like that before in the kitchen. When I was young, a friend and I were making muffins and instead of 1 cup of sugar, we put in 1 cup of salt. NOT THE SAME OMG SO BAD.

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