My parents and I were going to Thanksgiving dinner at a local delicious food restaurant. Great prospect, they always have good vegetarian options. This year was no different. The Tofu Forrestriere was amazing. I'm getting used to going out for special meals. After a life of cooking, my mom is in semi-retirement.
That doesn't keep me from wanting to cook though. I enjoy cooking for special occasions, so I decided to make a pie for after the dinner. I found a recipe for a fruit pie with cranberries, oranges, and apples. I made a crumb topping for it, and baked it on Wednesday night. It was pretty tangy when I tested some of the bubble ups, but it was also pretty yummy. Vanilla ice cream would be the perfect complement for it. I also had a lot of bits left over, so I stewed apple, cranberry, and mandarin oranges with sugar and butter in the crock pot, figuring it'd make some tasty ice cream topping.
After dinner, we stopped by one of the nicer gas stations to pick up some ice cream. I was excited, we were going to put the pie in the oven to warm while we watched a movie. When I unlocked the door, that all came to an end...what was left of the pie sat on the floor, 2/3 eaten. I called Wes into the kitchen, and he slunk in, head down. I admonished him, cleaned up, and then forgave him.
Honestly, I can't blame him. It did smell pretty damn good. I just need to remember to sit the pie on the back of the stove when I leave the house next time.
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