And the fillings haven't been much better. My two experiments at Thanksgiving - a pear-cranberry pie with oat streusel topping and a chocolate-pecan pie - were mediocre. Before that I made a lime-marshmallow meringue and a macadamia-banana cream. Eh-to-bleh. These caused me to question, what is the darn problem???
1. Can I truly not make good pies? Very possible.
2. Are these pies actually fine, and I just think they're bad because I don't like pie, and not know it? Maaaaybe.
3. Or have I just picked bad recipes? Over, and over and over? Possible, but frustrating.
The reason for this post, is that I have finally made A Great Pie. A really spectacular, honest-to-goodness, all-American, contest-winning pie. With a double crust. That I made myself. But I have other things I want to say about it, so I didn't want to burden that post with this preamble. It feels like a revelation, a miracle, a breakthrough. I CAN MAKE PIE!!! (Don't worry, it will be the next post. And it will be grrreat.)
So I suppose #3 must be correct. Because now I've proven I can make a good pie, though it is a very particular, tricky business. And I've also established that I DO like pie. I guess from now on I just need to be very, very discriminating in my recipes. And if they're dumb, not let them get me down. 'Cause I am a pie-maker.
And...I totally hated the book Life of Pi. Actually, it was really good until the ending, and then I hated it. Really, really hated it.
And. My dad and his engineering buddies at Cal Tech had a chant, which I learned very early in life:
Quite thought I was the bees' knees when I got to high school and learned what all those things meant. I remember my 7th grade math teacher scolding me for using five decimal places for pi - "3.14 is sufficient," she said. Sufficient, my butt. Obviously, her dad did not go to Cal Tech. And she is not getting any pie.