Many years ago my wife learned to bake superb pie crusts. She went through a difficult training phase, in which I sampled each pie to determine whether it was as flaky as my mother's pie crusts. Finally I announced my satisfaction; surely this last pie crust was as deliciously flaky as any of my mother's.
A few weeks later we ate at my parents' home, and my mother served a pie. My wife couldn't help noticing that my mother made crusts in an entirely different way - mom's were grainy, not the slightest bit flaky at all. It's a wonder I have any credibility left. When I think of all those delicious pies my wife baked, I can't believe I deserved any of them.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
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