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29 November 2016
R. Linda:
The day before Thanksgiving, we were baking our own pies, and the neighbours' pies were completely gone. I was going to make me famous apple pies, while me Mam made pumpkin and Tonya her pecan. I was the last to bake and discovered to me horror I didn't have enough apples for a whole pie. It was too late to go out and buy some, as the farm stands were closed and the supermarket is an hour away. I decided to make do and realised I had two cans of sweet pitted cherries. Okay then, an apple cherry pie was in order. Never made one before, but what the heck, why not?
I used some of the cherry syrup but kept the spices I use for apple pie therefore, I had no idea what the hell I was doing or what it would taste like. I put it in the oven to bake and it smelled yummy, and I wasn't the only one who thought so, but I didn't know I had a secret pie admirer.
When it was time to take the pie out of the oven, the aroma of cherry apple deliciousness wafted through the abode making me think I'd like a piece just to try it and see if it was edible. Uh-huh. I told no one of me plan and put me wonderful pie on the counter in the kitchen to cool. I had locked my hound in the mud room so there would be no helping me bake. We are also dog-sitting Dragon's hound while she and Big Tony are off to the Bahamas. Why she couldn't leave the dog in Jersey with one of her other kids, I dunno, but actually I do know. The perfect excuse to descend upon me abode when she returns to tell us what a lovely time they had, no cooking, just sitting on a beach, drinking pina coladas and being waited on while we whipped around making a large dinner and would eat it while cutting up turkey for small kiddos, then doing dishes and not getting a moment of relaxation for the entire Thanksgiving holiday. I know her do I not?
I locked her hound up with mine and left the pie to cool. I did notice Dragon's coon hound standing on his hind legs, front paws on the top part of the bottom Dutch door smelling the air, but I laughed because he was latched in and well, that was MY PIE.
I went upstairs, turned on the telly and I heard a doggy commotion like two dogs fighting over something and it sounded closer than where they were. Then I hear my dog at the bottom of the stairs barking and I realise they somehow opened the latch and got out.
MY PIE!
I tore down the stairs and yes indeed there was my dog barking at me trying to tell me something was amiss and something was amiss.
THIS!
That damn hound may not be a Bumpus Hound but he's close. He ate the entire pie almost including the tin and was sitting there with the tin on the floor smiling at me, his eyes glancing down to the "piece" he left me, like see I left ya some. I tell ya if I had a gun he'd be dead. I was pissed and I mean pissed! Here I was worried about ingredients, then congratulating meself on me innovative pie and now I had nothing, nothing to sample! Though he did leave me a crumb the stupid thing.
Me cursing and moaning brought out the women of the house who with one look were up to speed on what happened. No explanation is needed, no none. Mam corralled the hounds and put them back in the mud room shutting the bottom and top of the door this time. Tonya threw the remains in the bin and both offered to make me tea. I didn't want tea, I wanted the hide of a certain coon hound nailed to me wall.
"He has good taste," Tonya said trying to soothe me and that statement didn't help.
"It is all your mother's fault." I railed.
Well, there was no calming me down, they left for the sanctity of the room furthest from the kitchen where they didn't have to hear me half ranting, half crying, ok not crying exactly just jumping around like a who knows what madder than a lunatic being dragged to the asylum. Whatever. I made another pie, not so much cherry syrup and I put it in the oven AGAIN. It didn't look like the first one, I don't know what I did differently in me anger, but I must have done something another way. It didn't smell as sumptuous as the first and well, I didn't taste it that night (yes, it survived cooling). I had hidden all the pies in the upper cabinet so the Dragon hound couldn't get at them.
Me pie didn't taste as good as I thought it might. I think I was the only one that ate it. And I will say every bite I took did not go unnoticed. That hound's eyes followed me fork from pie plate to mouth and back again. He started whining when I'd get to the crust. Yes, he knew I was going to eat the whole thing without him. He did it to me, so there, I did the same to him and enjoyed every minute of it even if I didn't think the pie tasted that good.
That will learn me, I mean him.
Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved
29 November 2016
R. Linda:
The day before Thanksgiving, we were baking our own pies, and the neighbours' pies were completely gone. I was going to make me famous apple pies, while me Mam made pumpkin and Tonya her pecan. I was the last to bake and discovered to me horror I didn't have enough apples for a whole pie. It was too late to go out and buy some, as the farm stands were closed and the supermarket is an hour away. I decided to make do and realised I had two cans of sweet pitted cherries. Okay then, an apple cherry pie was in order. Never made one before, but what the heck, why not?
I used some of the cherry syrup but kept the spices I use for apple pie therefore, I had no idea what the hell I was doing or what it would taste like. I put it in the oven to bake and it smelled yummy, and I wasn't the only one who thought so, but I didn't know I had a secret pie admirer.
When it was time to take the pie out of the oven, the aroma of cherry apple deliciousness wafted through the abode making me think I'd like a piece just to try it and see if it was edible. Uh-huh. I told no one of me plan and put me wonderful pie on the counter in the kitchen to cool. I had locked my hound in the mud room so there would be no helping me bake. We are also dog-sitting Dragon's hound while she and Big Tony are off to the Bahamas. Why she couldn't leave the dog in Jersey with one of her other kids, I dunno, but actually I do know. The perfect excuse to descend upon me abode when she returns to tell us what a lovely time they had, no cooking, just sitting on a beach, drinking pina coladas and being waited on while we whipped around making a large dinner and would eat it while cutting up turkey for small kiddos, then doing dishes and not getting a moment of relaxation for the entire Thanksgiving holiday. I know her do I not?
I locked her hound up with mine and left the pie to cool. I did notice Dragon's coon hound standing on his hind legs, front paws on the top part of the bottom Dutch door smelling the air, but I laughed because he was latched in and well, that was MY PIE.
I went upstairs, turned on the telly and I heard a doggy commotion like two dogs fighting over something and it sounded closer than where they were. Then I hear my dog at the bottom of the stairs barking and I realise they somehow opened the latch and got out.
MY PIE!
I tore down the stairs and yes indeed there was my dog barking at me trying to tell me something was amiss and something was amiss.
THIS!
 |
| AGHHHHHHH!!!!! |
Me cursing and moaning brought out the women of the house who with one look were up to speed on what happened. No explanation is needed, no none. Mam corralled the hounds and put them back in the mud room shutting the bottom and top of the door this time. Tonya threw the remains in the bin and both offered to make me tea. I didn't want tea, I wanted the hide of a certain coon hound nailed to me wall.
"He has good taste," Tonya said trying to soothe me and that statement didn't help.
"It is all your mother's fault." I railed.
Well, there was no calming me down, they left for the sanctity of the room furthest from the kitchen where they didn't have to hear me half ranting, half crying, ok not crying exactly just jumping around like a who knows what madder than a lunatic being dragged to the asylum. Whatever. I made another pie, not so much cherry syrup and I put it in the oven AGAIN. It didn't look like the first one, I don't know what I did differently in me anger, but I must have done something another way. It didn't smell as sumptuous as the first and well, I didn't taste it that night (yes, it survived cooling). I had hidden all the pies in the upper cabinet so the Dragon hound couldn't get at them.
Me pie didn't taste as good as I thought it might. I think I was the only one that ate it. And I will say every bite I took did not go unnoticed. That hound's eyes followed me fork from pie plate to mouth and back again. He started whining when I'd get to the crust. Yes, he knew I was going to eat the whole thing without him. He did it to me, so there, I did the same to him and enjoyed every minute of it even if I didn't think the pie tasted that good.
That will learn me, I mean him.
Gabe
Copyright © 2016 All rights reserved
6 comments:
oh my my my we do get crazy over food don't we? lmao
That first pie sounded yummy. Time to try ahain.
I did. I think the first was the better pie.
I have a bit of catching up to do I see. In regard to your pie story, I feel your pain. Remember mine and my dog with the disappearing Italian ham and cheese? As Shobby used to say, "been there, done that, got the tee shirt!"
Shobby? You must enlighten me. Welcome back!
I just now sae my typo. Eyes are getting worse
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