Do you remember how you felt your first time doing something or going somewhere? Like your first day going into preschool/kindergarten. Or a first kiss. Or your first time going to Disneyland. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.
This year was my first "official" Thanksgiving celebration. By official, I mean doing the whole cooking the turkey thing and making the stuffing and gravy and whatnot. And then everyone sitting down and eating together. Yes, in my more than 2 decades of existence, this was a first. Better late than never. Oh how excited I was; all that adrenaline pumping. like a kid with $5 standing in the candy aisle of the 99¢ store.
In all my excitement, I decided to make 3 pies...
Yes, THREE PIES. IN ONE DAY. This may not be a big deal for some of you out there, but I've never made a pie before. The crust always seemed like an elusive little thing; too fussy.
In all honesty, I intended to make the pies, or at least one, the night before. That way I could help out with the cooking of the main course and sides the next day. Procrastination sure is a tough habit to kick.
