Can haz pie?
I'm making apple pie tonight. As of right now, I've got the pie dough chilling in the fridge and am procrastinating slightly on prepping the filling. Fortunately, though, we do have one of those nifty peeler-corer-slicer things, so I don't have to prep the apples completely by hand.
Baking in general, and apple pie in particular, have very good associations for me. I grew up with my dad making pies every Thanksgiving and Christmas, and until I met Tom, I had never had an apple pie as good as my dad's. I have warm memories of baking in Tom's kitchen in Fresno, and of watching him while he made apple pie.
Tomorrow makes two months, but I'm starting to cope a little better. I'll be thinking of him as I make the pie tonight, and I'll smile, because it was something he loved, and I'll cry a bit, because I miss him and I shouldn't have to be thinking about him in the past tense. And both are good.
Tears and laughter, apple pie and cordial, and warm memories of an unforgettable man.
Here's to you, love. Now let's go make pie.
Baking in general, and apple pie in particular, have very good associations for me. I grew up with my dad making pies every Thanksgiving and Christmas, and until I met Tom, I had never had an apple pie as good as my dad's. I have warm memories of baking in Tom's kitchen in Fresno, and of watching him while he made apple pie.
Tomorrow makes two months, but I'm starting to cope a little better. I'll be thinking of him as I make the pie tonight, and I'll smile, because it was something he loved, and I'll cry a bit, because I miss him and I shouldn't have to be thinking about him in the past tense. And both are good.
Tears and laughter, apple pie and cordial, and warm memories of an unforgettable man.
Here's to you, love. Now let's go make pie.