Irish Whiskey, English Mustard, American Pie

But not like that, sicko. I never noticed it before I was here, but it's tough when one of your three favorite foods is turned into a cultural sex toy. "Do you have pie?" when I rarely eat out, then even more rarely order dessert, in fact, I don't think this has ever happened "But not beef and Guinness pie, American pie, with fruit" which sounds like you're playing a joke, and no, tarts are not okay.

Anyway, the line between Richland and Dublin cooking is really very thin and full of Crisco, and by that I mean it consists of pie. I never even bothered trying to make my mom's pies (except once, when I really ruined the crust and she had to save it thereby also saving Christmas) even though I watched her make it several times a year (Dad's birthday, my birthday, Fourth of July, Thanksgiving, Christmas, potlucks) and am pretty good at cutting in the shortening, at least when I make scones, and can handle rolling dough fairly well, when I make pizza, but I still worked away in total fear, following the recipe (strawberry rhubarb) to the letter, which is something I haven't done to a recipe in years and years. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and although I managed to skip the pie-feasts of Dad's birthday, Thanksgiving, potlucks, and most recently the Fourth of July, I could not let my own birthday slip through the cracks. Needless to say, I botched the crust by not dusting the cutting board with flour, so I rolled that one back up and made it into a makeshift top, thank God it was a two-crust pie, while I went in for round two on the new bottom crust, taking six times as long as my mother, and forgoing a rolling pin for an empty bottle of Jameson whiskey, which put all these little backwards signatures of "John J. Jameson" on the crust, a sign of quality. So, I ended up patching the parts that needed patching, drawing an ocean scene with a fork on the top crust, and it still somehow managed to come out all right, even though I used Crisp n' Dry, which sounds like a deodorant, because I couldn't find Crisco.

And, really, from the first bite, it was worth it. The crust really did pay off, although it kind of fell apart since I didn't have a pie-scoop, but then it did that landslide thing and melted the ice cream (also the first time I've had ice cream at home here), and there was some left over, even. Which is to say, it was definitely a hit of nostalgia having the pie last night, but reheating the pie this morning with coffee? a full-on overdose.