Scible Imp (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} scibleimp) wrote,@ 2006-11-23 02:12:00 |
|
The Short Life and Happy Times of the Pie
I now recall why we only have pie once a year.
It’s one-thirty in the morning. The apple pies are juuuust about to come out of the oven, and the pumpkins are poised to go in. The cranberry sauce has not yet been made, and the kitchen is a mess. And my feet hurt.
Making pies always sounds like such a homey, comforting, holiday kind of activity. I don’t know why I never remember ahead of time about how the flour gets EVERYWHERE and the dough bits get EVERYWHERE and how the pie crust NEVER-EVER actually covers the pie dish, no matter how carefully you measure it.
…
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP
Ah, I see the apple pies are done – one moment please.
…
AAARRRRRGGGGGHHH!!!!!!
……
Hmmmmm…. Ok, I now have an entirely NEW reason for only having pie once a year. RIGHT after I transferred the apples out of the oven, a distinctly disturbing thing happened – the oven caught on FIRE. Here, in the style of many 911 tapes, is the actual AOL Instant Messenger conversation that I had with my mother during this state of emergency:
Scible: Hi Mom
Scible: what do you do when the oven catches on fire?
Scible: ummm, from a purely academic standpoint
Mom: put it out!
Scible: i seee......
Scible: we are finishing up the pies
Scible: apparently the apple leaked a bit during the cooking process
Mom: uh-huh...
Mom: and...?
Scible: and when we went to transfer the pumpkin in, the apple juices got all Armageddon on our asses
Scible: the pies are fine, though
Mom: whaaatt???
Scible: so all is well
Mom: Armageddon on your ...?
Mom: whattt??!!!
Scible: it’s just an expression
Mom: whattt??!!!
Mom: happened???!!!
Mom: is the fire out?
Scible: look, just because scary six foot flames were leaping from the oven doooooessn't mean you need to get on an airplane and get out hear ASAP!
Mom: are you sure?
Scible: No!
Actually, the flames were very tiny, polite flames that quickly dispersed once the heat was off and the oven door was closed. Ben has cleaned out the offending apple bits, and now the pumpkin pies are doin’-it-to-it in the oven. The apple pies are cooling smugly on the rack. I swear they did it on purpose.
I’m a bit concerned about how the apple pies will come out. The pie crust was EXTREMELY strident when I was rolling it out – when I wanted to roll left, it wanted to bulge right; when I wanted it to be all one piece, it wanted to crack into several bits; when I wanted to watch Law & Order, it LOUDLY insisted on watching CNN. Apparently, it is a very globally-minded pie crust, because as I was struggling to shape it, I swear it took the shape of several foreign countries. (In particular, France – which is why I suspect its PURPOSEFUL involvement in the fires.) In the end, I had to be rough with it, which is exactly the wrong thing to do with a pie crust. I only hope that it will forgive me and still bear some semblance to a pastry.
And now, I must to bed… dawn comes early, and the turkey is waiting.
I now recall why we only have pie once a year.
It’s one-thirty in the morning. The apple pies are juuuust about to come out of the oven, and the pumpkins are poised to go in. The cranberry sauce has not yet been made, and the kitchen is a mess. And my feet hurt.
Making pies always sounds like such a homey, comforting, holiday kind of activity. I don’t know why I never remember ahead of time about how the flour gets EVERYWHERE and the dough bits get EVERYWHERE and how the pie crust NEVER-EVER actually covers the pie dish, no matter how carefully you measure it.
…
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP
Ah, I see the apple pies are done – one moment please.
…
AAARRRRRGGGGGHHH!!!!!!
……
Hmmmmm…. Ok, I now have an entirely NEW reason for only having pie once a year. RIGHT after I transferred the apples out of the oven, a distinctly disturbing thing happened – the oven caught on FIRE. Here, in the style of many 911 tapes, is the actual AOL Instant Messenger conversation that I had with my mother during this state of emergency:
Scible: Hi Mom
Scible: what do you do when the oven catches on fire?
Scible: ummm, from a purely academic standpoint
Mom: put it out!
Scible: i seee......
Scible: we are finishing up the pies
Scible: apparently the apple leaked a bit during the cooking process
Mom: uh-huh...
Mom: and...?
Scible: and when we went to transfer the pumpkin in, the apple juices got all Armageddon on our asses
Scible: the pies are fine, though
Mom: whaaatt???
Scible: so all is well
Mom: Armageddon on your ...?
Mom: whattt??!!!
Scible: it’s just an expression
Mom: whattt??!!!
Mom: happened???!!!
Mom: is the fire out?
Scible: look, just because scary six foot flames were leaping from the oven doooooessn't mean you need to get on an airplane and get out hear ASAP!
Mom: are you sure?
Scible: No!
Actually, the flames were very tiny, polite flames that quickly dispersed once the heat was off and the oven door was closed. Ben has cleaned out the offending apple bits, and now the pumpkin pies are doin’-it-to-it in the oven. The apple pies are cooling smugly on the rack. I swear they did it on purpose.
I’m a bit concerned about how the apple pies will come out. The pie crust was EXTREMELY strident when I was rolling it out – when I wanted to roll left, it wanted to bulge right; when I wanted it to be all one piece, it wanted to crack into several bits; when I wanted to watch Law & Order, it LOUDLY insisted on watching CNN. Apparently, it is a very globally-minded pie crust, because as I was struggling to shape it, I swear it took the shape of several foreign countries. (In particular, France – which is why I suspect its PURPOSEFUL involvement in the fires.) In the end, I had to be rough with it, which is exactly the wrong thing to do with a pie crust. I only hope that it will forgive me and still bear some semblance to a pastry.
And now, I must to bed… dawn comes early, and the turkey is waiting.
