Just Like Mom's

She was young. She meant well. And it was not really her fault because the recipe didn't specify. You have to take into consideration her inexperience and also her good will towards all the members of the household and towards the whole world really. It was the thanksgiving season you see. Not quite here yet, but the leaves had all changed color and the air was crisp and fresh. Pumpkins had begun to appear on doorsteps in the neighborhood. All of this contributed to her feeling of goodwill and love toward all of mankind. It was her favorite time of the year. She was looking forward to the upcoming holidays, with all the good food. Food! "I'll make a pumpkin pie! she thought. "Just like my mom's ...mmmm."

"Let's see here." She found the recipe and began gathering ingredients. Sugar, flour, spices, pumpkin...She needed 2 cups of pumpkin. They had some pumpkins sitting around so she got one and began wrestling with it. First, to get it open. The knife sliced through the middle of the pumpkin with some difficulty but she persevered and got the thing open. Ok, now to scoop out the insides. There didn't seem to be stuff in there that was soft enough to make a pie but she scooped out the stringy stuff and began picking out the seeds. Man! This was a lot of work. She didn't know that her mom worked that hard on her pumpkin pies. The crust turned out great and the stringy stuff from the middle (minus all the seeds) combined with the other ingredients tasted flavorful. The baked pie didn't look quite like her mother's. A little disappointed, but anxious to serve her friends her first pumpkin pie, she brought it out after supper.

"A pumpkin pie!" they exclaimed with surprise. "Did you make this yourself?"
"Yes, I did". she proudly answered.

Everyone began to taste the pie. She waited for their compliments and saw surprise on their faces instead of the looks of ecstasy she had imagined as she had performed surgery on the troublesome pumpkin.

"It tastes really good, but why are there strings in it?" her best friend tactfully questioned.

"I couldn't get them to soften when I mixed them with the other ingredients after I picked the seeds out." she explained. My face...I mean, her face... began to heat. " Sorry."

What was everyone laughing about? With good will and more laughter her friends kindly... and laughingly... told her how to make a real pumpkin pie. One just like her mom's.

Rococo
(Yeah, It was me.)