Memorable Moments - 06-30-10

Those Darn Pies

by Lora Sibley Cain

A few weeks ago, I wrote about making a German Chocolate cake with homemade icing and how stressed it made me. However, the cake and icing came out fine and I was rewarded with kudos from my co-workers for my effort.

The next weekend, husband Mark and I planned to go to Natchitoches to have lunch with my husband’s sister and her husband, Myrna and Charlou Maggio, I volunteered to make the dessert. I thought about the desserts I had made in the past and realized I always made Mark’s favorite, German Chocolate Cake. Feeling energized by my last conquest, I got a little froggy and thought I would bake a pie.

I settled on Buttermilk Pie. Even though it has buttermilk as a main ingredient, it does not taste like buttermilk. I couldn’t find my old recipe, so I got a recipe on line, bought two frozen pie crusts and set to work.

I followed the recipe closely, I thought, and anxiously popped them in the oven. When they were done, I noticed there was a lot of residual butter on top and decided to take a taste. (I mean, if there was a piece missing, I would do what every good wife does and blame it on my husband.)

Oh my gosh! They were horrible. They tasted like sticks of butter with a little sugar thrown in for good measure. What was I going to do now?

By that time, I had come obsessed with baking Buttermilk pies. I called Johnny at Big Star, found they were open until eight and hopped in the car to purchase two more pie crusts. (If I can mess up a pie filing that bad, imagine me trying to make homemade pie crusts!)

As I mixed the next batch, I realized where I had gone wrong on the first try. I had used two sticks of butter instead of one. Duh.

In between my mad baking rush, sister-in-law Myrna called and I told her of my calamity. “Don’t worry,” she sympathized. “Just bring yourselves.”

But noooo, I had to have a good dessert to go with Charlou’s famous spaghetti and meatballs.

The next pies came out looking fine. However, after I tasted the filing, they were not as good as I expected either. One of the recipes recommended adding coconut to the top after baking to “enhance the taste.” I sprinkled that bad boy with a whole bag of coconut. I figured what the heck, enough coconut might really enhance the flavor.

By this time, I had become a basket case worrying about my promise to bring a great dessert. As the clock ticked on towards midnight, I began mixing my old stand-by, German Chocolate Cake. Mark came into the kitchen, saw the wild-eyed look on my face and didn’t ask a single question; he just turned and went back to bed.

After relating my tale over lunch the next day, Myrna and Charlou tasted the pies and “claimed” they liked them just fine. I think they were afraid to say otherwise.