Indeed, cooking is not something that I do exceptionally well. (Believe it or not, there is a whole litany of areas in which I don't particularly excel, but let's save that list for another moment when we have more time.) For this reason, I can't make a meal without a recipe, I shy away from doing anything experimental in the kitchen, and I avoid anything resembling challenging kitchen tasks at all costs.
It is also for this reason that I never make a pie crust. While I have many fond memories of hovering over my mom while she very adeptly mixed, rolled, and executed beautiful pie crusts filled with yummy goodness, my own attempts never come close to what her talents seem to have effortlessly produced.
Sadly, my own pie crusts resemble something that only Chef Frankenstein would be proud of-- painstakingly pieced-together catastrophes that barely pass for pie crusts at all:
And yet, when leftover turkey and gravy persistently beckon my hungry family's post-Thanksgiving taste buds, I have no choice but to don the surgical gloves and perform this unpleasant procedure, which typically involves a huge mess of flour, an increasingly grumpy Mommy, and 2-3 phone calls to my mom and/or sister.
Until next year, adieu, ugly pie crust.
(The final product: it's a wreck, but man, it sure tasted good.)
You were always a great cook on the mission. Don't you remember Thanksgiving and Christmas I couldn't complain.
ReplyDeleteAs long as it tasted good, that's all that matters! :)
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