'Tis the week of Thanksgiving, and the arrival of the holiday means that 3.5 denizens of our westerly inclined family will be deposited in our local airports. We shall all unite and feast. As for me and my house, we are ecstatic. In preparation for the arrival of our weary travelers, I've thought a lot about food.
In general, I cook the way I live. I gather as much information as I can from as many trusted sources as I can, and I make semi-educated guesses about what strategies and ingredients might work together. Then I try out my cobbled together strategy. Sometimes it works, sometimes it's an epic failure. Either way, I've learned a valuable lesson for next time. What I lack in intuition or past instruction I make up for in sheer mental exertion. I slowly--and sometimes expensively or painfully--gain my own experiences. The process makes my brain tired, but hey. Food. It's worth it.
The last seven months of married life have afforded me the opportunity to make several dishes that come directly from my family's collective memory: Grandmother's ebelskeivers, Julie O's decadent football cake, Laurie M's chocolate chip cookies and caramel brownies, the list goes on. Making my family's favorites lets me cook in a whole different way. The nature of my trial-and-error changes; instead, I know a person I love has been successful in the past, and that love and success permeates my efforts--regardless of the final result. It's a beautiful, reassuring shortcut to a kind of culinary enlightenment.
But . . . there are no shortcuts this week. Pie is a realm my family lore never really explored, and I'm assigned to bring two of them. I personally baked my first totally from scratch pie years ago in a cooking class at BYU. I baked my second totally from scratch pie last year for Thanksgiving, and it was barely a muted success. I baked my third totally from scratch pie like a month ago, which was again barely a muted success. (David may claim otherwise, but he's contractually obligated to be nice to me.)
Fourth time's the charm? Let's hope so.
And don't get worried, Thanksgiving participants. If a palatable pie crust eludes me YET AGAIN, I'll bring a bag of chocolate chips and a tub of peanut butter and we'll commiserate together. Then we'll play laser tag, and all will be right with the world.
In general, I cook the way I live. I gather as much information as I can from as many trusted sources as I can, and I make semi-educated guesses about what strategies and ingredients might work together. Then I try out my cobbled together strategy. Sometimes it works, sometimes it's an epic failure. Either way, I've learned a valuable lesson for next time. What I lack in intuition or past instruction I make up for in sheer mental exertion. I slowly--and sometimes expensively or painfully--gain my own experiences. The process makes my brain tired, but hey. Food. It's worth it.
The last seven months of married life have afforded me the opportunity to make several dishes that come directly from my family's collective memory: Grandmother's ebelskeivers, Julie O's decadent football cake, Laurie M's chocolate chip cookies and caramel brownies, the list goes on. Making my family's favorites lets me cook in a whole different way. The nature of my trial-and-error changes; instead, I know a person I love has been successful in the past, and that love and success permeates my efforts--regardless of the final result. It's a beautiful, reassuring shortcut to a kind of culinary enlightenment.
But . . . there are no shortcuts this week. Pie is a realm my family lore never really explored, and I'm assigned to bring two of them. I personally baked my first totally from scratch pie years ago in a cooking class at BYU. I baked my second totally from scratch pie last year for Thanksgiving, and it was barely a muted success. I baked my third totally from scratch pie like a month ago, which was again barely a muted success. (David may claim otherwise, but he's contractually obligated to be nice to me.)
Fourth time's the charm? Let's hope so.
And don't get worried, Thanksgiving participants. If a palatable pie crust eludes me YET AGAIN, I'll bring a bag of chocolate chips and a tub of peanut butter and we'll commiserate together. Then we'll play laser tag, and all will be right with the world.
7 comments:
I just love you Wendy!! Happy Thanksgiving!
I am also not a champion pie maker, despite modest successes in other culinary adventures. I made one a few weeks ago as a trial run as I, too, am on pie duty this holiday. May I recommend the recipes found at www.melskitchencafe.com? I have made lots of her main dishes, a few desserts, and now a simple pudding pie with good results.
Good luck!
I love Mel's Kitchen Cafe--it's one of my trusty resources.
Though we haven't yet partaken of my creations, I'm pretty sure I'll barely crack average. Again. I much prefer making cookies, or cakes, or ice cream, or anything else but pie. It continues to elude me.
Ah well. At least I have other food assignments to hopefully overshadow my lack of crust prowess.
I am sure the pie was stellar! Hope you had a happy Thanksgiving Wendy and David!
Marie Callender's, the cure for all domestic pie needs. Bully to you, though, for giving it a try. What about that commercial that encourages us to lie to our loved ones about who really made the pie? Pillsbury? They would! Hope all went well, regardless. Nothing like making the perfect pie...so I've heard...
So apparently, according to the spouse, "Bully to you" is supposed to be an insult? But I promise, it wasn't meant to be =) Moving on...
Wow. This made me miss you and your wonderful gift of expression. I hope the pies turned out well!
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