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Did I tell you about how I went apple-picking, got 20 pounds of apples, got them home and realized oh fuck, I don't even really like apples all that much? And it only takes three whole apples to make an apple crisp, maybe five for a pie? I'm going to be eating these bloody things forever.
At least the roomies are more than willing to eat my baked creations. A. told me how much more she liked the latest pie crust than the one before, and I tried not to visibly wince, as the one she liked was store-bought and the previous one was made from scratch. Ah well. Maybe I'll unearth the Cook's Illustrated pie-crust-using-vodka-cause-CI-loves-to-fuck-with-their-readers recipe before Thanksgiving.
Also am panicking a little, realizing that I'm going to be working on Thanksgiving. Until two. So how the hell am I supposed to cook and host the meal?
At least the roomies are more than willing to eat my baked creations. A. told me how much more she liked the latest pie crust than the one before, and I tried not to visibly wince, as the one she liked was store-bought and the previous one was made from scratch. Ah well. Maybe I'll unearth the Cook's Illustrated pie-crust-using-vodka-cause-CI-loves-to-fuck-with-their-readers recipe before Thanksgiving.
Also am panicking a little, realizing that I'm going to be working on Thanksgiving. Until two. So how the hell am I supposed to cook and host the meal?