Tuesday, January 14, 2014

And so we baked a pie

Both kids eeewed and crinkled noses at my lunch choice: tuna salad in a pita pocket. I emptied a small can of tuna in a bowl. Diced up some celery. Dumped in a hefty spoon of mayonnaise. And the ultimate nasty, to them anyway, a forkful of sweet relish. It's how my mom always made it. It's what I'm used to. My kids won't touch it.

Schooling through the afternoon, and finally bumping up against the dinner preparation. Lanie wanted an apple pie for tonight's dessert, and I obliged.

"I want this apple pie recipe in my cookbook," she told me. "And your recipe for banana chocolate chip bread. And even your black bean soup recipe. Even though I don't like it, maybe one day I will."

I laughed.

"You better get started on it sometime in the next three years," she told me. "I'm going to be grown up soon."

I know.

"Why don't you mix this up for me?" and I handed her the bowl with the sugars and spices to stir and shimmy over the chopped apples in the crust.

Erin rounded the corner and wanted to help. I let her paint the egg whites over the pie top.

"Next time can you do three slits instead of an X?" she asked. "Or maybe a heart."

Painting, painting.

I wished I had my camera nearby. But the kitchen lighting isn't the best on a day like today: chilly and gray drizzly. Perfect day for an apple pie.

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