On Perfecting My Pie Crust

Thanksgiving is coming and my family is quite attached to pie. I am really am grateful pie crust no longer alludes me :) This bakery perfection was at the Bread Peddler in Olympia Washington, how excited I was to learn the powdered sugar is sprinkled over a lace template. I felt a similar thrill when I learned sauces are artfully applied using squeezable ketchup-like bottles. It assures me I am not the only one seeking shortcuts. 

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On Perfecting My Pie Crust


I winced before my mince,
I snapped because of apple,
I was not merry for the berry.
It might seem like a small thing,
but each time I made a pie crust,
I resented it.
I resisted, I protested.
I am embarrassed to pen this poem
but I must...
woe was me.
But now
flow is me,
wow is me.
(I had of all things,
resorted
to buying pre-made).

(And if I hadn’t stooped, it
never would have happened).
A Pillsbury beatitude,
a pastry benevolence.
A revelation to cut the butter
into the flour with the Cuisinart.
Magic to refrigerate the dough.
Like some big conglomerate,
I too rolled between wax paper,
I also had no flour gunk on the counter.
No gummy rolling pin.
No ripping when I tried to lift with the spatula.

Such accomplishment to
peel one side and have the crust
lay securely in the pie plate!
Such mastery to slip the second sheet off!
Cooking shows are launched with as much!
Culinary careers began with less!

Really.
It was epic.
It came at a time when things felt hard.
Sweet rhubarb,
sometimes we aren’t ready to give up,
but we need a little easy.