Convection this!

This IS the pie to end all pies

Every year, I try to grab hold of a recipe and wrestle it to the ground. Last year, it was Martha Stewart’s answer to the green bean casserole. WT version: Durkee fried onion rings in a pan. Martha version: pan-fried shallots, about five million chopped fresh spices and an all-day investment. This year, I picked a chocolate pumpkin pie out of my friends’ Mark and Paula’s official pie book. How hard could that be? I’ll just use the canned pumpkin stuff to save time. Then, I went down there to get schooled by the Master of Pie Creation, Mark.

Here’s the thing – you should always READ THE RECIPE first. I just read as we went. Four hours later, I’m still trying to finish out this pie, which I’ve grown to loathe. After about hour three, I found myself talking to it: “You’d better be good, you little smirky pie! You know, I might even get a spoon and eat you right now. Stop giving me that smug look with your crust all golden brown. You just WAIT until tomorrow. I am going to eat you so fast.”

Meanwhile, Mark and Paula are sashaying around their kitchen proudly displaying the FIVE other desserts they’ve created in the time it took me to do ONE pie. Oh, did I mention there are like five ways to bake a pie crust? Weights, long waits, per-bake, post-bake, fake-bake. How did I get myself into this? In two more hours, you’re MINE, you chocolate pumpkin Princess Pie. Let’s just see if you’re really all that. I’m bringing my Flip so I can record the look on my friends’ faces as they EAT YOU.

So I managed to pick the most high maintenance pie ever created. Now I know why clowns throw pies – out of complete frustration. Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Hope you’re enjoying a pie you baked in less than four hours. I would have made a cheesecake, but I was thinking I could use that metal spring form thing as a girdle. Then, you could unsnap it after dinner and just pray it doesn’t zip across the room like a tire rim blown off an 18-wheeler.

Special thanks to Mark, Paula and Ellie for letting me camp out in their kitchen. They even bought dinner, that’s how long I was there. Next year, it’s Fred Meyer bakery, baby.

Just two of Mark and Paula's finished desserts laughing at me.

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