BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

…Make me some piiiiiiiieee.

Thanksgiving – or L-Tryptophan Day, as I like to call it – was pretty good this year. I’m not one for setting aside a single day to do the “thanking thing.” I try to make sure I do it when the situation calls for it, rather than waiting. And, we all know I don’t buy into the concept of a divine being providing me with the things I need to be thankful for… Well… Except for E K, but her Supremeness is something else entirely…

But I digress <– My favorite expression – and activity – as we all know…

Anywho, L-Tryptophan Day was good. Did the hanging out with family thing. Got to spend time with our PhD niece, World Traveler niece, and College Freshman niece. The other niece and nephew are at that age where we Gr’ups are too boring to be around, so we didn’t see too much of them. As always, food was prepared, food was eaten, food was stored away in icebox crevices due to the overwhelming amount of leftovers – an L-Tryptophan Day tradition in and of itself.

When dessert time rolled around, several pies were on deck – among them being the traditional Bourbon-Rum Cranberry Mince Pie, and the experimental Bailey’s Pumpkin Pie – all direct from my kitchen. After some tweetage about the pieness, I started receiving requests for the recipe for the latter. So, here it is, sans picture of a pie because we ate them before I could take one…

MERP’S Bailey’s Pumpkin Pie

INGREDIENTS

3/4 Cup Light Brown Sugar

2 Cups Pumpkin (I prefer to use fresh, as we grow pumpkins here at home, but canned pumpkin can can be used instead. Generally available in 15 OZ size, simply forgo the 16th ounce and call it good.)

2 Whole Eggs, Large

1 Egg Yolk

2 tsp blackstrap molasses

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp ground ginger

1/4 tsp ground cloves

6 OZ evaporated milk

3 OZ Bailey’s Irish Cream Liquer

3 OZ Heavy Cream

1 9-10 inch pie crust (homemade or store bought, your choice)

DIRECTIONS

Preheat oven to 425F.

Lightly beat eggs, then combine with the rest of the ingredients in a mixing bowl. Mix well. Pour into pie crust (I am assuming you have put the pie crust into a pie tin and properly trimmed it. If you haven’t, go back to Home Ec and do not attempt to cook anything until you receive at least a passing grade.) Since many pie tins and pre-prepared crusts have different depths, if you have any extra filling, simply pour it into a ramekin and treat it as a custard.

Place on center rack of oven and bake for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 350 and bake an additional 40-50 minutes. It is done when a toothpick can be inserted into the center and is clean when removed.

Allow to cool, then cover and refrigerate, as it will be best when cold and dense. Serve with whipped cream, Bailey’s whipped cream, or ice cream – OR for the purists, a large slice in hand, over the sink, with a cup of coffee…

More to come…

Murv

I make no apologies. I’m an overprotective dad. I mean, just look at what I write for a living. Because of the research I do in order to write those books, I know crap that you should be freakin’ ecstatic that you don’t know. I’m dead serious. Some of the sh*t I’ve learned about sociopaths wakes me up in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat and reaching for the Glock in the nightstand.

THAT’S why I’m an overprotective dad…

Still, that doesn’t mean I’m not a bit silly too. After all, it’s a moral imperative. Dads are supposed to embarrass their kids. It’s an inalienable right. It’s handed out to you the minute you become a father. Trust me. It’s in the paperwork. No kidding.

And so it came to pass that coldness crept into our city as winter descended upon us. And with said cold came bundling up when walking the child to school – what with being an overprotective dad and all, not to mention that I’m wheels down and about to do a three point on that half-century mark, so the doc wants me to exercise. I sit on my ass all day, slinging words, so my fingers are getting all the workout.

But I digress…

Like I said, so it came to pass, and with it passing came the following conversation:

“Do I look sufficiently weird?” I asked.

E K looked me up and down. “Oh yeah…”

“O-SPRING!” I yelled. “Time To GO!”

(thumpita, thumpita, thumpita… came the child down the stairs.)

Around the corner the O-spring came, then screeched to halt, staring at me. Then she moaned, “Daaahhhh-ahhhhhhhhddddddd!”

“What?” I asked.

“You’re wearing THAT to walk me to school?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Daaahhhh-ahhhhhhhhddddddd!” she moaned again, rolling her eyes in the process.

“What? Do I embarrass you?”

“Well, yeah…” she replied.

“Good,” I told her, suddenly channeling Macaulay Culkin from the movie Uncle Buck, in a paraphrased sense, of course: “I’m a dad. It’s my job.”

And so off we went. I trailed along behind at a short distance… Until we got close to the school, of course. Then I closed the gap. I had to make sure all of her friends knew I was her dad…

ANATOMY OF AN EMBARRASSING DAD

TO READ CAPTIONS CLICK PHOTO AND ENLARGE – MAY TAKE A MOMENT TO LOAD

TO READ CAPTIONS CLICK PHOTO AND ENLARGE - MAY TAKE A MOMENT TO LOAD

More to come…

Murv