Why pies should be treated with caution:

               

     The women in my family are big into baking. In fact, that's the activity that stands out most in my mind when I think of either my mom or my grandma. So if ever there is a potluck or function that we have to attend, our go-to thing is baked goods. 

     And so a few years back, my incredibly sweet, patient, saint of a sister had to go to a work party at her boss's house. She genuinely liked her boss and all the people she worked with and really wanted to impress them with her mad-baking skills (cause who doesn´t love the girl that bakes?). She got the recipe for a sour cream apple pie from our other sister and gave herself a good 4 hours to make it, thinking this would give it enough time to bake and then cool. She really had no idea what she was in for.                                                             

     She mixed all the ingredients, put them in the pie crust and popped it in the oven for the set amount of time. Said time rolls around, she takes it out and is surprised by how soupy it is. Now, a pie being a little bit liquidy right out of the oven isn´t unheard of but this was a little too much. Regardless, she assumed it was okay and set it aside to cool while she cleaned up. A little while later she checked on it again and saw that it wasn´t solidifying…at all.
     Being the unfailing optimist that she is, she bucked up and had another go at it, this time using less liquid. She made the other pie and left it to bake while she got ready. When the timer went off she took the pie out of the oven and to her horror saw that the result was the exact same: sour cream soup with apple chunks on a bed of soggy pie crust. This is about the time that I arrived (I was catching a ride with her to my parents house which is one the way). I saw that she was super stressed so I tried, uncharacteristically, to be a good sister.

“Something smells good.” I said being overly cheerful.

“I made pie” she said, standing over the sink.

“Well it looks..” I started, walking over to it, “…is it suppose to look like that?” That was the wrong question.

“NO! I couldn´t understand the stupid fucking recipe.” she snapped at me. Like I said, she is super sweet and patient and all things good…until she isn´t. In those moments you just have brace yourself and ride it out.

“Well I´m sure you tried your best.” Being supportive and encouraging isn´t really my strong suit but that doesn´t mean I don´t try.

“I spent the whole fucking morning making these goddam pies,” she said, slamming various drawers, “and I don´t have time to make another one. Okay?” She also gets very combative and challenging when she´s frustrated so you just have to let her do what she wants until she wears herself out.

“Ok, ok”

“You´ll have to carry it in your lap.” Errr? What did she say?  The fact that she was still planning on bringing the liquid-pie-mush is a testament to her state of mind at the time. It honestly never dawned on her to not bring the pie to the party.She really really wanted this thing to happen.

           I moved the tray slightly and the entire contents sloshed to one side, almost spilling over the edge. Not only was it liquid, it was also incredibly hot. The flaws in her plan were glaringly obvious but I was also kind of afraid of her at this point so I half-heartedly agreed. Walking down to her car was a juggling act, each step was slow and steady as to not upset the balance of the piping-hot pie.  Miraculously ,we got to the car without spilling much and she helped me get in. I thought hopefully that maybe it would be ok since it was on my lap. Oh, the lies we tell ourselves.

She started the car and switched from park into reverse and the car moved ever so slightly. The pie, being considerably unstable, sloshed forward and I had to lift the tray off my lap to rebalance before it spilled out. I was becoming as delusional as my sister in thinking that if I could save it once, why couldn´t I protect it for a 30 minute drive? I also saw that tears were streaming down her face at the sight of this monstrosity and the reality of the situation so I didn´t want to make things worse by voicing my fears. She backed out of the parking spot, the pie sloshing back and forth as I tried to steady it. I found it´s sloshing and the fact that she was actually intending to serve this to humans utterly hilarious but I knew it wasn´t the time. I tried to stifle my laughter in fear but it wasn´t working. I looked out the window and shook while balancing the pie. She sniffed and told me to shut up. I felt horrible for laughing but that´s never enough to actually stop you from laughing is it?

 The car was out of the space and lurched forward sending the pie and it´s contents back towards me. I tried counterbalancing it by tipping it forward and then overcompensated by tilting the tray back again. With each attempt the pie only gained momentum until finally it was too much and the tray, the pie and all it´s burny contents spilled over on top of me.

“OH GOD!” I screamed as the sour cream soup soaked through my clothes and burned my skin. “IT'S SO HOT!” Even being in excruciating pain, I still thought the situation was pretty damn funny. At least I finally felt justified in laughing. “Fuck you, this is funny!” I yelled at her. If 2^nd degree burns don't merit a giggle I don't know what does. She looked furious at first and she fought it for maybe 2 seconds but then we were both laughing uncontrollably.

It took us another 30 minutes to get myself and the car cleaned up. In the end, she conceded and decided to by a pie at the supermarket. She hasn´t tried to make a pie since.