Ok awhile back I did one of those little "quiz" things that I borrowed from Fiesty's blog about how well we know our partner in crime aka Dh's. One of the questions was about what kind of cake I would make him for his birthday and I answered I wouldn't make a cake, I'd make him a blackberry cobbler or a pumpkin or apple pie with sugar in it. Yes, there IS a reason I put the reference to sugar in it, and that my readers is the story I'm going to post tonight.
Several years ago, I decided to take it upon myself to make Thanksgiving dinner for not only my family, but my Mom, brother, Mom's boyfriend, and a few friends. Of course, it had to be PERFECT, not because I'm compulsive or anything, but I knew I'd never hear the end of the snide albeight well meaning comments from my Mom (just her way of trying to help, and making me neurotic in the process). So the night before Thanksgiving after reading many web articles about what I could do ahead and what I couldn't, I decided at 1:30amish to make the pies. The way my family LOVES pumpkin pie, I knew just 2 wouldn't be enough so I decided upon making 4 of them. Another brilliant idea I had was in an effort to save time, just double the filling recipe. Worked great, I had some terrific looking pumpkin pies after they came out of the oven. I was elated to say the least.
Well the next afternoon and evening, I spent cooking and chopping, roasting and basting to my hearts content. After 15 lbs of potatoes later, a few pounds of cranberries being crushed, a fridge full of salads and appetizers I felt a deep satisfaction at what I had done. I was proud of my accomplishment and I double and triple checked everything to try to ensure that I was going to keep Mom's "helpful" comments at bay. The only concievable issue I found was I forgot to get the Cool-Whip out of the freezer, but it was 3 in the afternoon, it would be thawed by 8pm.
I sank into my bed, thanking God yet again for holding my hand again and patting myself on the back for a job well done, for a very well earned nap before everyone arrived.
At 6:30 everyone started arriving and we munched on appitizers and chit chatted and I oooooo'd and ahhhh'd over the goodies everyone brought over. My Mom seemed amazed that she couldn't find one lil thing to pick at me over. I smugly visited with our guests, and watched her try to nonchalantly inspect EVERYTHING.
We started eating at 7pm and my only worry was that the turkey would be dry, but nope, it was nice and juicy. We all had a wonderful meal and I finally heard it. Something that I had been working for my entire 25 years on this planet.
"Well I have to admit, you did it, you actually DID IT. I didn't think you had it in you with all of your tomboyness. You CAN cook, and do it very well. That was a WONDERFUL meal, and I'm not just saying that because I didn't have to help or cook it." Mom said, sincerely meaning it with more than a hint of astonishment in her voice.
"Thanks Mom, I appreciate that" I said beaming and everyone knew *something* had just happened they just didn't know what. Not that it mattered, I knew and that was all that was important.
The moment wouldn't last long...
A few minutes later as the after dinner coffee was poured and the last of the dishes piled in the sink awaiting the dishwasher to finish the first load, Daniel was dying for a piece of pumpkin pie. I had to threaten him with various things to keep him out of them all day long, so he had rightfully earned it. My Mom skillfully cut the first pie as I got the Cool-Whip out. Daniel stood off to Mom's right, fork poised to scoop out his two pieces of pie. As soon as Mom lifted the knife from the last cut, Daniel swooped in and got his pie and retired to the table to enjoy. I stood at the island talking to a couple of friends about recipes and I heard Mom ask Daniel "What's the matter?"
His blissful face had contorted into one that looked like they had just eaten a whole lime with salt. WTH? ran through my mind as my Mom repeated her question to Daniel while walking over to the pies with a fork in hand.
"Uhhhh I don't know what's wrong with this but SOMETHING really REALLY important seems to be missing."
My heart sank as I replayed the recipe over and over in my head wondering what I had done. For the life of me I couldn't think of one lil detail I had overlooked.
Mom answered that question for me with one word:
"Sugar, that's what's missing, Sugar." while trying to keep from laughing.
Daniel on the other hand, had no problem bursting my bubble (and ego), he busted up laughing while saying "How the hell did you manage to over look the sugar Sweetie?!?"
If looks could have killed, I'd been widowed that night.
After glaring at him while questioning myself as how I could have forgotten the sugar in the pumpkin pie it occured to me what might have happened. I walked over to my cabinents and opened up my baking cabinent and yup, suspision confirmed. I had almost forgotten to put the salt in the pie, so after I had measured the sugar I went to get out the salt. While doing so, I sat my measuring cup in the cabinent on the upper shelf because I needed to move a couple things to get the salt out. Then I shut the cabinents and didn't think twice about the measuring cup being on the top shelf as that's where it's home was. I'm sure the fact that it being 2am when I was mixing up the pie filling didn't have one thing to do with my CRS moment. I stared at the measured sugar IN the measuring cup as everyone was dying from laughter at Daniel's face. I just could not believe that I forgot such a crucial ingredient. As always rolling with the punches though, I told them next year I promised NOT to forget the sugar, but I might forget something else, like the pumpkin. We all got a good laugh out of that and got the ice cream out of the freezer. While it didn't quite lend enough sweetness to the pie, it was still pretty tasty and definately interesting LOL.
That's been 7 years ago as I mentioned and to this very day, every time I make a pumpkin pie (or 4) I hear the same thing:
"You didn't forget the sugar did you?"
*SIGH* Somethings you just can not EVER live down.
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Everyone has to have at least one thing that the family will not let them live down for the remainder of breathing days. mine...was from toddlerhood and involved dog food. There's been PLENTY of time to rehash that story again. and again. and again...and...
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