Some Pie with Those Pretzels?

Mom's home.

She walked in and said no, she's not hungry, and then started nibbling the bits sitting around. She eventually ate a fair amount (for her), so yay. She's sore in a number of places--from the insertion of the chest port, from the tourniquet, from the new graft--and tired and such, but we all managed to laugh about a number of things. My brother came over after work, around 3:00, and mom and dad didn't show until 5, so we hung for awhile. We actually get along just fine in situations like that. My brother is extremely funny--really, seriously funny--and he's smart, so he is always entertaining.

What were we laughing about? The fact that my mother has things stored in spots that are less than obvious. Finding things in her kitchen is a serious adventure in hide and seek, and then there are the things that aren't actually stored in the damn kitchen. You may remember that I made a batch of lemon/aniseseed/cranberry/pistachio biscotti the other day that didn't come out as nicely as I would have liked (so I eventually made a second batch, which came out much better). When I'd finished them, she put them in a container and spirited them away. I kept thinking I would run across them--especially given the hide and seek for various ingredients and implements--but I didn't. So we're all sitting around, and I say, where's the two-cup pyrex measure? Because I know I saw one, but I looked everywhere! Oh, it's in the drawer under the stove. (Of course!) Not with the other measures, not with glass, or the other cooking or baking implements; oh no. It's under the stove. (I never think to look there, because I've never had a drawer like that.)

So then my mom asks, did I find the other biscotti? No, of course not--where are they? Oh--they're in the closet in the bathroom. (My parents' bathroom backs up to the garage or the outside, I forget which, so it's cool.) Well, yes, because everyone stores their biscotti in the damn bathroom closet. At this point, we're all laughing, of course, so it was great fun.

What did I make today?

Three pies (cherry with a lattice top for the older nephew; mince for my dad; and shoofly pie for my brother). Two batches of pie crust scraps rolled out with cinnamon and sugar. A batch of pastry cream for the cream puffs. A batch of pumpkin pastry cream (I made that one up as I went along, and it ROCKS THE HOUSE). (No, really, it is fucking amazing.) A batch of soft pretzels (two are gone, two went home with bro for my nephews, two are in the freezer, and the other three were actually pretzel rolls, and they're in the freezer, too). An egg for mom and an omelet for me (dad made his own omelet). Tomorrow will include the barley (with caramelized onions and dried cranberries), cream puffs, an apple cake (I keep forgetting about that one), creamed cauliflower, and, if I get ambitious and have time, caramel sauce and/or a roasted butternut squash and/or some meringues with all the damned egg whites.

Yes, I know that sounds like a lot of work, but it's actually a tremendous amount of fun. I'm making all kinds of fun stuff, for people I love. I can make a cup of tea and seat near the pellet stove when I want a break. I have my recipes, mostly. My dad keeps coming up with more stories I didn't know. There's good beer in the fridge (Rogue and Flying Dog). My mom didn't die yesterday. We all know how to amuse each other. There are other kinds of pleasures in life, some of which I also enjoy tremendously, but these are really among the best.