Wednesday, December 3, 2008

The Story of the Black Pecan Pie

Hmmmmm, homemade pecan pie, am I right? I'm right. So, that's what I set out for. I asked around and got a good recipe for us to make our very own Pecan Pie for Thanksgiving. Meticulously, I followed's directions, except, of course, when the recipe called for arranging the pecan halves in concentric circles around the pie. I mean, really, what am I? Betty Crocker? It's not going on the cover of Southern Living, it's going in my mouth. I scattered the pecans about and ensured they covered the entirety of the pie. In the oven it went and off to play the Wii... wii went. 15 minutes to go and, and from the kitchen, the sweetest and most innocent voice managed to utter the most horrific question: "umm, why is the pecan pie black?"

"What?!?!?!..." and I'm sure you can imagine, the pie was black because, quite simply, it was burnt. Lacking the resilience of delicious Omaha steaks (see "Historic St. Mary's City"), the pie was subject to overexposure of the oven elements. Misinformed by Stewart's online recipe, the pie I had been looking forward to for well over three weeks, now sat like an exile on the counter. It's not a total loss, though. Masked by gratuitous amounts of ice cream, the pie can be eaten, but the taste is bitter sweet, both literally and figuratively. And now, Martha, you owe me a pecan pie. So, if any of you see her around, squeeze her until a pecan pie pops out.

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