So I’m having the World’s Fastest MS Relapse, and this weekend my choir is going on a retreat, including a pot luck dinner. I signed up to bring dessert. I’m the alto section leader, so when one of the other altos couldn’t make it, I signed up to bring her dessert, too.
Dessert for twenty. I am encumbered by some middle class brainwashing that does not allow me to buy two dozen doughnuts at the grocery store; I have to make the dessert.
Or maybe I can have a surrogate, the Baking Son, do it for me. No, the Baking Son is a teenager, and does not recognise that my request for three pies by Friday is a Desperate Cry for Help. He doesn’t have time to make pies for me, but he does have time to make bread for his Food Science class.
My husband would be happy to do it for me, but he does not do pie crust.
That’s ok, if I just space the work out enough, I can do it, right? Step 1, make crusts.
When I spooned the flour out of the bin (the big bin, the one that holds 15 pounds of flour, which, by the way, weighs almost 15 pounds!), it looked a little weird, but I figured it was the light. After I’d mixed the dough, it definitely looked green. My daughter tasted it, and pronounced it rye flour.
I started to cry, and hollered at the Baking Son, who admitted that, after making 3 monstrous cardomom breads, he refilled the big bin from “the bag on the floor”. Yup, rye flour. I got a chair, arranged all the flour bins in front of me, shovelled fifteen pounds of rye flour (minus the flour I wasted on my 5 pie crusts) into the rye flour bin (clearly marked “Rye Flour”), washed the white flour bin, threw away the pie crust dough, and went to bed.
The next evening I successfully mixed up some new pie crust and put it in the refrigerator to chill.
The following morning I got up half an hour early and rolled out three pie crusts, annoying my high school students who never have a minute to spare in the morning by making them fetch pans and flour and put crusts back into the freezer. For a woman who has trouble lifting 15 pounds of flour, rolling out those damn crusts was a lot of work.
Still to come: fillings. I figure I’ll make one apple, one pumpkin and one cherry pie, unless I can’t dragoon a child into peeling and slicing apples, in which case I’ll make two cherry pies, cherry pie pretty much involving opening a couple of cans.