Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Homemade… For Love


It seems every time that I decide to make chicken pot pie from scratch, this wonderful dreamy picture pops into my head, looks pretty much like this one.


Looks lovely right? Then I get a second image in my head of me getting out my grandmothers old pastry cutter, and making handmade pie crust. It’s a lovely feeling really. I think to myself “I am so proud of myself how far I have come in the cooking world, I feel like a real grown woman.” Then somewhere between making rue, searing the chicken, boiling potatoes, and digging out my rolling pin, I find myself going from nostalgic, to flustered, to flat. out. angry.

I am asking myself as I fill the pie… “Why do I do this to myself?”


I cut a piece, put it on my plate, and take that first bite… then I am transported back to grandma’s farm… full circle to nostalgia! That is why I do it I think… “someday my girls will get this pastry cutter, and do the same for their family.”

{hopefully it doesn’t go any further than flustered for them.}


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