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April 10, 2013 / tyandolivia

My Refrigerator Ate My Pie

I made the most amazing chocolate cream pie Friday. And then my refrigerator ate it.

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I had a schedule for my day. Wake up, feed my son (Trey), put him down for a nap, write this blog, eat lunch, feed Trey, go for a run, pick up prescription, feed my son, put him down for a nap, shower, make pie, do my hair, feed Trey, go to the neighbor’s house for dinner.

Everything was going according to plan until the time I was supposed to put Trey down for his second nap. He was greatly displeased and expressed his thoughts on the matter for about 40 minutes. Thinking maybe he wasn’t tired since he took a marathon nap in the morning, I decided to let him stay up a little longer and watch me make the pie. My first mistake.

I have made this pie so many times, it’s ridiculous. I have also messed it up so many times, it’s even more ridiculous. This is not a difficult pie to make. But it’s decadent and homemade. That’s why I make it for friends. That’s why I was making it to bring to dinner at my neighbor’s house. It looks fancy and tastes delicious.

I usually mess up the pie when I go too fast or only cook with half my brain in the game. That wasn’t the case this time. I checked my ingredients two days in advance and went to the store to buy what was needed. I baked the pie shell first. I measured out all the ingredients. I added the egg yolks perfectly (no scrambled eggs in my chocolate, thank you very much!) Everything was going great.

Up until it was time to put it in the fridge. That’s when Trey decided he was really done with being awake and watching me make a pie isn’t all that interesting when he’s only two-feet tall and can’t even sit up, let alone see what’s going on on the stove. Thus, the screaming commenced.

I told him I would just put the pie in the fridge and then put him down for a nap. I pick up the pie and start for the fridge. That’s when I started to feel the pie buckle in the middle.

I take the pie and put it back on the counter. Maybe I just need a better grip.

I pick up the pie from either side between my pointer fingers and my thumbs and head back toward the fridge. God only knows why I thought it wouldn’t buckle the second time.

I am inches…inches from the shelf when the whole thing buckles and leaps out of my hand and into the fridge.

Chocolate custard is everywhere. So is the pie crust. All I can think of is the two cups of milk and three egg yolks that are now congealed across my whole fridge and on the floor.

Oh yes, Trey is still screaming. He is now reaching that screech from the back of his throat that makes my whole body want to crumple up and press my hands against my ears.

So what did I do? Honestly, I hardly remember, I think I’ve blocked a lot of the next hour from my mind. I went and put Trey down (somehow) and came back to my disaster. I truly wish Ty had been there. I didn’t even know how to begin cleaning it up.

Well, two rolls of paper towels, two desperate voicemail messages, one photo text message to Ty, three kitchen towels and one swifter sweeper later and the fridge was clean.

Yes, all of the contents of the fridge were on the counter as I didn’t trust myself to put the glass shelf back in (I have a history of breaking glass). Yes, Trey was crying again. Yes, my hair was still wet, I had chocolate all over my clothes and on the verge of a serious breakdown.

Fortunately, I also had a box of brownie mix in the pantry. Ty finally called me back, picked up more eggs and a carton of vanilla ice cream and I was back in the game.

Well, except for my screaming son and my wet hair, but when Ty got home, both of those problems resolved themselves as well.

Why, WHY did I not pick up the pie from the bottom instead of holding it on either side of the shell? I still don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever picked it up that way before. Every time I make this pie I make some elementary mistake.

One time, I made the custard before I realized I hadn’t baked the pie shell yet. Since I didn’t have any more eggs, I stirred the chocolate on the stove to keep it from burning for 30 minutes while the oven heated up, the shell baked and then cooled.

Another time, I whisked in three whole eggs and not just the yolks. Scrambled egg chocolate disgustingness.

Lesson learned, always pick up the pie from the bottom, not the sides. Although, I think I’ll be giving this pie a bit of a break. It has failed me too many times.

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A last look at the carnage.

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One Comment

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  1. Pudgie's Pies / Apr 10 2013 4:06 pm

    Sounds like my life. Never thought to blog about my disasters! Good read!

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