Give thanks for Pie Making, the Thanksgiving family tradition.
Every year my mom picks up my 4 children on Tuesday night. Then bright and early on Thanksgiving Eve pie making begins. Everyone has a job and everyone’s favorite pie is made, which means 6 different homemade pies are needed to be cooked.
I always find myself at home alone. I think I am left out because of my first Thanksgiving dinner I cooked. Let me set the scene. It was Thanksgiving of 1996, my first-born was 10 months old, and I the new wife and mother was attempting my first made from scratch meal.
I planned for weeks, got up bright and early to start the process. About 2 hours in I was finishing up the cranberries. Now never in my life had I done fresh cranberries, but my husband promised me Thanksgiving wouldn’t be the same without them. Since I had no clue what they should taste like, I summoned my husband to the kitchen to taste them.
He loaded his spoon up and down the hatch went the cranberry sauce. His face twisted, turned and he spat back the cranberry sauce. Which immediately he followed with “OH something is wrong.”
After drinking down a large glass of water, we discovered I had grabbed the salt instead of the sugar! That means I just cooked cranberries with 2 cups of salt! It also meant the pumpkin pie in the oven would quickly find a new home in the compost pile.