Monday, November 22, 2010

Pies in the Oven

Introducing . . .

My first holiday pie of the year.



It's Pioneer Woman's Dreamy Apple pie ... ehem... without the hard sauce ... or the fancy camera ... and a few charred spots of sugar on the top.  But didn't Mama always say a little charcoal never hurt anyone? 
http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2010/11/dreamy-apple-pie/

Next up?

The honey-scented pumpkin pie from the Publix supermarket pumpkin puree label.  Sweet Publix.  Oh, how I love Publix.  In fact, I think it's time for another episode of *buh.duh.duh.duuuuh* The Why-Georgia-Rocks Show.  I thought you'd be pretty excited about that.  You might want to sit down for this.

Number Three:  Georgia gives football players of all ages the opportunities to feel like champions.  I went to a middle school game a few months ago, and the hoopla (this is the official "football term" for the lights, announcer, referee uniforms, cheers, and pretzels) was nicer than my college football hoopla.

Number Two:  Publix.  Grocery Store Extraordinaire.  The cashiers itemize my items.  The stockers front all the stock.  The butchers ask me if I need any meat.  The sandwiches are better than I've had in any sandwich shop, and the crab dip is divine. 

Number One:  Still topping the list of my Why-Georgia-Rocks Show is the Southern Man.  Sure, some women feel trapped by chivalry and laundry days, breadwinners and good ol' boys.  The longer I live, the more I'm finding that Gram probably didn't have laundry days because of tradition; she probably had them because maybe she would've turned into a giant mess like me if she hadn't installed a little organization in her life-- Mondays are for sheets; Tuesdays are for ironing.  Um...I digress.  Breadwinners are hot (though I like to throw my own contribution into the bowl), good ol' boys know where the best local diners are, and when a man holds the door open for me, I feel the world tilt on its axis ... just as it should be.  So, Men of Georgia*, I salute you.

*This salute is intended for Men (capital "m").  As is true in every region of the country, knotheads lurk if you're looking for them.  But most people around here are pretty solid.

Butter Pie.  McCartney.  Dig a Little.

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