From last Thanksgiving
A long, long time ago, my cousin Henry asked me to make him Minced Meat pie. Who in their right mind EATS minced meat pie?! I had never seen one, made one, heard of anyone eat one. Whatever. He asked, and by golly, he shall receive!
What started out as a great idea turned into a financial nightmare. My original recipe I found frantically searching my Grandma’s cookbooks had me driving all over creation for the huge list of specialty ingredients. My nerves. The liquor pushed me over the monetary edge. $60 for a bottle that I would never drink- it wasn’t beer. Whacked out. All this for one pie that I am unsure of its edibility.
I called him, verifying this indeed is what he was hoping for. “For heaven’s sake, Deb, you open a jar and dump it into a crust.” Whaat?!
I am not a fan of…
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