Monday, November 21, 2011

Hey Pumpkin


Right now it's quiet in all my house, which you won't be surprised to hear is how I like it. I just put a loaf of pumpkin bread in the oven and it smells so good already. Sometimes I do domestic things without feeling the need to apologize for them.

I never did bake that apple pie. Pumpkin bread was far more achievable.

Today I gave up on my plans to make this delicious recipe for Thanksgiving. I really wanted to bring it to my sister's house, present it with an apron-at-the-waist flourish and impress everybody. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway. In general, I find people are far less impressed with me than I'd hoped. Turns out you can't buy pie pumpkins after Halloween, and I know from experience you can't but Emmentaler cheese in Longmont. Which isn't exactly true, you can probably find it at the imported cheese emporium in that office park under the bridge, but I never remember to go there.

Instead we're bringing cheesy apple bake. It's this god-awful unhealthy dish that my mother-in-law made every Thanksgiving. This is difficult to admit: you pour canned apple pie filling into your casserole dish and then you blend Velveeta with white sugar (I died a little, just typing that) and you pour it over the apples and bake. The top gets slightly burnt and crusty and then beneath it is cheesy apple goodness. You have to eat it early if you're dining with my husband's family because the kids eat all the cheese topping off and then you're just left with sad canned apples. To sell this dish to my sister, I called it "Apple Cheese Southern Souffle". If I told her I was bringing sugared-up Velveeta over canned apples she probably would have hung up the phone in order to drive straight to Longmont and slap me. Crisis averred. You gotta know how to work these things.

Today I met up with an old friend from high school. There is nothing like an old friend from high school or a drinking buddy from college. Some bonds are forever, this is why whenever I met a new person I try to get sloppily drunk as quickly as possible.Instant friend for life. (Contrary to what my husband says, crippling social anxiety has nothing to do with it. Who has the psychology degree, Mr. V? NEITHER OF US.) For instance, I hadn't talked to this particular friend in a few months when I sent her this email: "I'm moving to Taos to keep bees. Wanna come?"

"That sounds awesome," she replied. "I'm there."

This is a comfort to me. I can't tell most people when I want to move to Taos, or Paris, or the other day, oddly, Nashville. They start to do calculations and ask me about my life goals and say things like "You don't speak French" or "Do you know how hard it is to get a Visa in a socialist country?" or "It snows in Taos".

Our other plans include moving to Vietnam, wearing the funny hats, and planting flowers/ holding babies in orphanages, as well as spending our golden years traveling the world until we finally go down together in a plane crash.

Maybe because it's Monday, or maybe I'm drunk on the scents of warming nutmeg and cinnamon, or maybe because I'm bringing glucosey plastic cheese to Thanksgiving, but right now, those seem like worthy goals.

But no, I'm not actually moving to Taos.

Not yet.


  1. .......WHAT?!

    SO HELP ME--If you show up at my door on Thanksliving with a Velveeta & Apple casserole then you can drive your butt straight back up to Longmont!

    J/k... actually, I have a thing for cheese & apples. I'm thinking I'm going to love it!

  2. I want to make the baked pumpkin recipe AND the cheesey apple recipe! Does that mean I'm cultured and common? Commonly cultured?

  3. Yes! I like to say my tastes run from pretentious to base. If you try the pumpkin, let me know how it turns out!

  4. ...
    Not gonna lie, Velveeta scares me. Yet I am intrigued. How was this dish received?

    In other notes, have you ever made apple Snicker salad? I think people put the word "salad" on there to make you think it's healthy, but it's very much not. Chop up apples. Chop up mini Snickers bars. Mix 'em all together in a sea of Cool Whip. Die and go to heaven.

    Now I'm having flashbacks to "fruit lab" in Von's class when someone brought tubs of Cool Whip and I discovered that amazing Granny-Smiths-and-non-dairy-whipped-topping combo. Ah, memories...

  5. Alissa, everyone loved it and I refused to tell them it was Velveeta. If they'd read my blog, they'd have already known. It's not my fault they're goo good for their own daughter's blog. Suckers.


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