In Your Face

It’s pie baking day here at La Casa de Tilby. Not quite like the way we did things ten years ago, but then, what’s still the same as it was ten, or even five years ago?

It used to be, well just like I said in this post last year. The whole family got involved in the decisions about which pies, how many, who got to help make which ones. And MSH had to have a whole pan of “leftover” pie dough baked up as pie cookies, with cinnamon and sugar.

Things don’t work that way so much now with the kids scattered to the wind, or at least all living at different addresses than this one.

Apple and Pecan pies in the cooling stages.

Daughter two dropped by early today and pretty much baked up two delicious and, might I say, picture perfect pies without any help from me. Okay, I held the baby and enjoyed cooing and smiles and changed a diaper. MSH took the two-year old to the park and kept himself and her entertained. Already, the dishes sit washed and drying and two pies cool temptingly on the table. Not sure they’ll survive unscathed until after dinner tomorrow.

Daughter three will drop by shortly to help bake up two or three more pies. I’ll probably be a little more involved this time as there are no babies or tots involved. And yes, MSH, don’t worry, we’ll make some pie cookies for you.

All this pie talk and baking reminded me today of my first pie encounter with My Sweet Husband when we were dating.

Yes, a dating story, from the Jurassic period. Cool, I know!

I had a friend from high school coming to visit me for a weekend at the University. That put a damper on the future MSH’s plans for the weekend, but he adapted and decided to take us both out to a movie and then dessert back at his apartment.

True to guy fashion he’d gone all out and bought a frozen cream pie. Banana. You know the kind with the artificial yellow and simulated banana flavor? The whipped cream edge got smooshed somewhere in the process from the factory to the tabletop. It looked…not very appetizing.

This pie looks nothing at all like the actual pie described. This one looks 100x better. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

At that time in my life I kind of liked that fake banana flavor. Reminded me of Laffy Taffy or Creamies Frozen Confections. Sure, it wasn’t the fancy over the top date idea of the week that had just gotten a foothold on the dating scene, but it would taste sweet.

Turns out it hadn’t quite thawed all the way yet. So we listened to some records, yes, vinyl LPs. MSH had a sweet stereo set-up with massive speakers and all the latest technology available in the Jurassic period. The three of us listened to tunes and laughed and one-upped each other with silly stories and jokes. We’d worked ourselves into a bit of a state when someone remembered we hadn’t eaten the pie yet.

I don’t recall if it was my idea or my friend’s idea but one of us had what we thought was a hilarious plan. I can’t imagine I would have done anything so mischievous back then. So for brevity’s sake I’m going with her as the instigator. She picked up the pie, swiped a bit of whipped cream off the edge and said something to the effect of, “someone needs to be wearing this pie.” She licked the whipped cream from her finger and laughed maniacally.

Before we knew what was happening MSH had the pie in hand and we had unwittingly become the target. My friend and I shrieked and headed for the door. We somehow managed to escape out to the stairwell where we felt, oddly, safe from the potential onslaught.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” MSH said in his most innocent and believable look. “Come back inside and let’s eat this pie.” We made out way back up the stairs and headed toward the door.

Before we knew what was happening he had the pie in launch mode balanced on one hand just above his shoulder. We shrieked again. (Why do we do that?) We looked at the pie and the pie launcher and knew we were doomed.

Just as he let the pie fly I had the instinct to duck, and my friend, who stood behind me her caught the banana cream concoction full on in the face. The look of surprise that registered sent MSH and I into paroxysms of laughter. She stood there shocked and immobile.

With yellow goo and whipped cream sliding slowly down her blond hair and dropping to the linoleum, she finally came out of her stunned state and joined in the laughter. She grabbed what little of the muck she could and flung it at me, as if I had been the one who threw the pie! Luckily she wasn’t a very good aim. Little wonder since she could hardly see out through the layer of crust and pudding and cream.

I think we ended up at Denny’s for some pie after quite the effort at damage control.

Ah, those were the days.

If that happened now all anyone could think about would be the mess, the clean up and the waste of a perfectly good pie. Of course, no one is their right mind in this home-baking house of perfectionism would spend good money on such a thing as a frozen banana cream pie.

Although, for old times sake, it could make for some great laughs.

*****

(No real bananas were injured in the making of the blog post.)