Thanksgiving just isn’t Thanksgiving without my mother’s pumpkin pie. Pie is not usually my first choice in a dessert. It’s not the pie itself, but I’m very picky about the crust. My mother’s crust is perfect. It’s flaky with actual flavor that seems lacking in so many pie crusts. When the pie crust tastes the same as crust of a pot pie, I have a hard time enjoying it no matter what the filling.
Then, there’s the pumpkin. The spices are perfectly balanced; not too much, not too little. When the pumpkin pie has too little spice, I feel cheated and pout like a child who was promised heavy cream ice cream and got skim milk ice milk instead. I like ice milk, but it’s just not the same.
Now my mother says that she just follows the recipe, but there’s some kind of magic going on there that I just can’t duplicate. There’s something about walking into my parents house over the holidays and seeing that perfect pumpkin pie just waiting to be cut up and devoured that makes my mouth water with anticipation. I think all the yummy smells of the holiday meal cooking have something to do with that, but the pumpkin pie whispers my name, I swear it!
Here’s my pumpkin pie recipe: Traditional Pumpkin Pie but my mom’s is better!
Weekly Writing Challenge – Pie