I had the best breakfast this morning. It was triangular in shape, orange and was topped with whipped cream. It was a slice of pumpkin pie, cooled in the fridge overnight with a nice big glass of milk. This is my All-American breakfast. This is the breakfast of champions. In fact, it is also the lunch, dinner and dessert of champions.
With ease my mom made hundreds of delectable pumpkin pies for me while I was growing up. I soon learned that other moms could not make nearly as good a pumpkin pie as my mom did. I was scarred at a very young age when fooled on several occasions to try a pumpkin pie not handcrafted by my mom. I learned quickly. When I saw other peoples’ pumpkin pies I avoided their droopy, wet, discolored mess like the plague.
I questioned other peoples’ baking abilities throughout my childhood and I wondered while I wandered to school on cool fall mornings about my mom’s innate ability to create the best pumpkin pie on the face of the earth. Well, before I left home, she had the nerve to tell me how she did it. She would buy a can of Libby’s Pumpkin filling and follow the recipe on the can step for step.
I was shocked, but delighted in my realization that I too could make an amazing pumpkin pie. And that is what I did yesterday, following the recipe on the can. What? Did you think the recipe on the can was just a joke? Your mom probably did. Mine didn’t.
Thanks, Mom.
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