FRANKENSTEIN'S PIE
By Dan Miller
February 5, 2008
When I was a young boy, my neighborhood pals called me Pie.
Don’t ask me why…. I don’t recall the genesis of the nickname.
These days, if somebody calls me “Pie,” I quickly know they hail from my old Georgia neighborhood… and their numbers are down to a precious few.
With such a nickname, it seems appropriate that, from time to time, I should make a pie.
Over the Super Bowl weekend, I decided to concoct a flavor I’ve never done before.
Actually, I’ve made only three varieties of pies in the past…. all variations of lemon, lime or banana… with a dubious track record of success.
This time I decided to try an ameretto pie.
I prepared it Saturday night, and put it in the refrigerator to firm up so that we could enjoy it on Super Bowl Sunday.
I was eager to know what my wife and daughter would think of this new pie creation.
As you know, feedback is the only worthwhile gauge for a pie maker.
Of course I was hoping for a reaction like, “Wow, that’s really good!”… or, in my wildest dreams, “That’s easily the best pie I’ve ever eaten.”
But, Sunday afternoon, the moment of truth only confirmed what I had secretly feared.
I had put too much condensed milk (2 cans) and too much ameretto (12 tablespoons) into the pie.
After one small bite, my daughter wouldn’t eat any more.
When I asked her what she thought of it, she said, “Well, it burns, but the cream on top was pretty good.”
OK, so she likes Cool Whip.
My last hope for favorable validation would have to come from my wife Karen.
She ate an entire slice.
“What do you think?” I asked.
She thought for a few seconds and said, “It’s not terrible.”
Then she lapsed into a one hour sugar coma next to the fireplace on the living room floor.
Honestly, the reviews were a little harsher than I had hoped for.
I figured maybe I’d get a “I’ve had worse”… which is a familiar and comfortable response.
On the other hand, “It’s not terrible” could mean lots of things.
It could -- in a real stretch -- mean it’s pretty good… but, more likely, it would indicate it’s just barely this side of "uneatable."
So I let a day pass.
On Monday night I asked Karen, "Can I just assume you don't like my pie?"
Her answer surprised me, "I almost like it... but I'm afraid of it."
Yikes, she's AFRAID of it!
I've had many comments, good and bad, on my pies in the past... but this was a first.
Never before has one of my pies actually frightened someone.
So… it’s back to the drawing board… and I’ll try again.
Next week I hope to score a "Not too bad"... which, in the world of Pie's pies, would be a giant leap forward.
And, hopefully, I won't trigger any nightmares.
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