In case anyone forgot, JAY is the chef, not I.
So I had a little story I wanted to share with you. (Shocking, right??) It popped into my head this morning, as it does every single year once we start planning for Thanksgiving: What is Tanya NOT going to make for Thanksgiving dessert?
This all started about 12 years ago when Jay and I lived in Brooklyn. I was in a transition period figuring out how to share the holidays with both sets of our families. My parents and brother living in NJ, Jay's sister and brother-in-law in the Bronx, and his parents in Michigan.
Jay's tradition was established: he always worked in the morning/afternoon in the restaurant, then would meet up at his sister's home in Riverdale around 8pm. He'd roll in with some side dishes he made while working: always stuffing, usually creamed corn, and without fail he'd show up with an awful bottle of the freshest release of Beaujolais Nouveau. Yuck! But we'd drink every drop…
As for me, that year I had it all figured out--I could make everyone happy and spend the holiday with BOTH families! I'd commute from Brooklyn to Manhattan via subway then take NJ Transit out to the ‘burbs. My parents would pick me up late morning and we’d have an early dinner around 2/3pm. My parents dropped me back at the train around 4/5pm, where I'd take NJ Transit back to Manhattan, then the subway up to the Bronx and have a 2nd Thanksgiving dinner. Yah, it was a lot of moving around all over and in/out of town, but it was worth it to see everyone…that's what I told myself.
What threw a wrench it in all was I also volunteered to make the apple pie. No big deal, had I been commuting via the safety and ample personal space of my own car… but I was not. Not an issue, had I a box or some sort of sturdy carrying case… but I did not. That pie, went through a lot! And it looked like it!
Have you ever tried racing through Penn Station during rush hour? Because Thanksgiving in Penn Station is literally an ENTIRE day of rush hour. That, I wasn't expecting or prepared for. And neither was my pie. My poor, poor pie…2 trips through Penn Station in one day. Honestly, not sure a box would've been much more protective, but anything would have been better than the pathetic paper bag into which I had carelessly slid my first ever attempt at a homemade apple pie. It was so pretty…was! But so are piñatas before you release the kids with sticks on them!
I think I arrived in their cozy Riverdale apartment around 7pm. I found a safe spot on the table to let my pie rest and I collapsed into one of their oversized chairs. I was exhausted by my unexpected day of playing running back in a game of Apple Pie 2-hand touch. I saw the look on their faces when when they peaked into the bag. In between gulps of wine, I muttered, “Let's just hope it tastes good.”
Around 9/930pm it was finally time for pie. We warmed it up in the oven… it may not have looked so pretty, but it smelled good! You ever heard of that show “Ugly Delicious”? I was certain that would be my pie: a hideous but delectable creation.
I cut a piece, took a bite and…
SPIT IT OUT!!
It was raw! Apples still fully crunchy, flour still partially powdery! Talk about YUCK…I found myself wishing for another glass of Beaujolais Nouveau! The entire process of protecting this pie all day, only to find out it was inedible…wow, I just had to laugh. We all did. And so the joke began, “What is Tanya NOT going to make for dessert this year?” And trust me, there were a few more mishaps that followed. Another specialty of mine: Lemon Meringue Soup. MMMMMMmmmm….
So, whenever anyone tells us that “we” make great food, I can't help but chuckle to myself. The cooking is ALL him…I've gotten better over the years as his “sous chef", but I mostly remain on the outskirts of the kitchen playing prep cook, server or dishwasher. I'm much better at those positions…or running back…I've got good experience with that ;)
Ok friends, it's that time of the night where I turn into a pumpkin.
Sleep well, Cromwell (and beyond)!
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