My mom brought me up a big bowl of hand picked raspberries from home last week. I made a birthday pie with peaches and the raspberries which was, in fact, the biggest crust disaster in years. I underestimated how brutally hot it was in the kitchen at Elmwood (so hot), meaning my very well chilled butter for the crust went from very well chilled to darn near melted as I was cutting it in. I need to get one of those new fangled processor things people keep talking about.
The pie was mediocre at best, meaning my mom and I ate the whole thing that same day. She was just humoring me. She's good like that.
The pie was mediocre at best, meaning my mom and I ate the whole thing that same day. She was just humoring me. She's good like that.
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