Saturday, November 27, 2010


My wife is not know for her amazing cooking skills. In fact she is actually known for her complete lack of cooking skills. Yet every year around Thanksgiving time, it is time for her to bake a pumpkin pie.

I believe she grows insanely jealous from every year from all the praise and adoration that I receive for my massive cooking skillz and cock. So she ventures into the unfamiliar territory of the kitchen to ruin approximation 16 ounces of pumpkin, sugar, coconut milk, egg re-placer and pumpkin pie spice.

In the previous years we have experienced, burned pies, sugarless pies, pies with roughly 10 millimeters thick and the infamous "pie with no crust". This is my wife's usually process for cooking pumpkin pie:

Step one: Forget to cook the pumpkin.
Step two: Randomly substitute ingredients.
Step three: Burn the pie.
Step four: Serve burned pie-like abomination, then wonder why no one wants a piece.

This year however, my wife took the radical step of actually finding a recipe for pie. She went shopping and bought the actual ingredients. She still forgot to cook the pumpkin, but lucky she married me, so I cooked the pumpkin and scooped into a bowl for her.

She then measured the ingredients and put them into a blender. After arguing with me and others about random ingredient swapping (she relented, and finally decided that based on history, it wasn't such a good idea) she blended the ingredients and then wandered off.

So I made a crust for her. And poured the pie mix into the crusts. I however made her cook them herself. However, after putting them in the oven, she promptly forgot all about them. Luckily her Uncle's convection oven uses a timer, and it shut off by itself before it burned the pie to a crisp.

The pie this year did not turn out so bad, especially when covered with copious amounts of my famous vegan whipped topping.

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