Back in the day cooking and baking was my thing. Please do not make a leap from ‘thing’ to hobby. In my world, if something is one of life’s necessities, it ain’t a hobby. Okay. That said, reading recipes from multiple sources and preparing the most interesting and exotic ones was great fun. I seemed to have an innate sense of what herbs and spices combine well together. In addition, my quirky side frequently prompted me to alter recipes . Fortunately, those alterations always, to my great relief and sometimes surprise, turned out very well.
Baking was the most enjoyable for me. Breads (sans bread maker), cakes, cookies, pies et al, seemed to best suit my type of creative expression. People often said I made the best fruit pies, pumpkin pies, pies in general. Consequently, this story is about (what else?) pie.
My family’s favorite was raspberry pie. Personally, of all the fruit pies, raspberry was, and still is, my penultimate. If you must know, strawberry pie rocks the bottom of my list. Alright, my personal tastes are irrelevant to this story. Just saying. When a request came in for a raspberry pie, I easily put my preferences aside . After all, I didn’t have to eat it.
One otherwise uneventful day, I was presented with just enough fresh organic raspberries to make a pie. I assembled the ingredients and put the pie in the oven to bake.
While the pie was baking, I decided to wash the kitchen floor. Which turned out to be most fortuitous. You may be familiar with the axiom that only a mother knows how to walk on a wet or just washed floor. When the oven timer went off, I executed my walking on newly washed floor skills to extract the pie from the oven. As I was removing the pie, there was a wrinkle in time. OMG! The pie was suddenly on the floor.
You may also be familiar with the 5 second rule when it comes to being able to eat food that drops on the floor. This rule expands to 7 seconds if the floor is newly washed. I had a nanosecond of panic. There were no more raspberries to start over with. I couldn’t lose all those organic berries. The baking angels must have been with me, as I caught the glint of a spoon within reach. I scooped all of the filling off the floor and put it back in the pie shell. Finish time…7 seconds! Whew! I also managed to save pieces of the top crust.
Arthur Asche once said, “Start where you are, use what you have, do what you can.” That’s what I did. I arranged the salvaged pieces of crust in a pattern which could have been the original design. Next, I stared at the contents of the refrigerator hoping to find inspiration. Ala Kazam! There staring back at me was a carton of whipping cream. Who can resist whipped cream? Right? And so, the finishing touch was an aesthetic motif of whipped cream dollops. The pie was later devoured and no one was the wiser… Until now.
Comments are welcomed.