Yes 2007 was a great year. Unfortunately for me I only remember one event : The Great Pie Crust Debacle.
Let me preface this by saying I love to cook. Do I grind my own organic herbs with a pedestal I whittled from native New England granite from my backyard ? ......no.....Did I make cheese out of my own breast milk ?? ....no.....Am I going to be Americas Next Top Chef .??? ...no.... I still do enjoy cooking . However I do have my own personal battles in the kitchen;
1. Fried chicken - no matter how many recipes I try - I still end up with fried chicken fail.
2. Pizza dough - Here's a sticky one. Looks deceptively simple . Water , yeast, flour and love. Whatever .....doesn't rise...rises too much...sticks to things...dough fail.
3. The elusive homemade pie crust. Brown, flaky, layered, crispy, buttery goodness......I had her in my grip my friends......until that fateful day.
Well to get on with the story I'd had one of the boys ask a friend over for a play date. Like any other day, except on this fateful day, I had decided to make a quiche. I prepared my crust and prebaked her. She was a thing of beauty . She was for all to see *PIE CRUST PERFECTION *!!!
I am not boasting. Her edges were fluted just so and remained unburnt. She was perfectly browned and flaky. Her aroma was intoxicating. She waited by the stove for the filling to be done. I sauteed zucchini, yellow squash , peppers and onions for the quiches debaucherous center.
It was just as the aromas carried off into the sunset that said play dates mother appeared. She's happy go lucky enough and I was proud to show her my pie crust. It was then that I saw it. I saw the glint in her eye . It was then my friends I saw true evil . Sure she SAYS she doesn't like to cook but her eyes said otherwise. Her eyes said, " Run with your pie crust nestled to your breast and never look back." ......but alas.....it was too late.
Her hands came down upon the crust like an executioners axe severing forever the fluted edge from it's base - we both screamed - then mercilessly she peeks at me through the whole where the pie base used to be. Mocking me.
It was the magic mirror from Romper Room Hell. Her evil laugh rang thru my ears as I screamed , " NO - NO - NO !!!!!" . It was too late - the fluted edge crumbled into a thousand pieces before my eyes. As it did shattering my chances of ever entering the Pillsbury Bake Off .
She claims it was an accident. She claims she doesn't even make pie crust. Don't believe her my friends . Keep your children close and your pie crusts closer.