I don’t cook much. And what I do cook, I don’t necessarily do well. But I can make a mean pumpkin pie. (It’s my grandmother’s recipe.) So every year in October, at either Halloween or the first cold snap, whichever comes first, I make the first pumpkin pie of the holiday season. I don’t know how many pumpkin pies we eat as a family between the end of October and January 1, but I’m sure the number is ridiculously high.
The cold set in for a few days last week, so I made the pie on Monday while everyone was gone and left in the fridge for each person to discover on their own. It didn’t take long. We raced through dinner that night and polished off the pie in less than 24 hours. I could easily have made two!
I have a feeling that with two teenaged boys in the house I’ll be making pumpkin pies even more frequently—both this year and in the next few to come. I just hope I can keep to my “slivers.” Otherwise, I’ll be asking for new clothes for Christmas!