Chemical Pie

I made a 'mock apple' pie today.  I am officially the anti-June Cleaver.  It's all David's fault, really, because he said he'd made one once and that it actually tasted like apple pie.

It couldn't be true that this weird concoction of ingredients that included Ritz crackers, cream of tartar and sugar would somehow become 'apple pie'.  Anyway, I made it.  It doesn't LOOK like apple pie, but strangely it does taste quite a bit like it.  If you can get over the sensation of eating Ritz crackers soaked in syrup.

I'm not posting the link.  Google 'Chemical Pie' and 'All Recipes' yourself.  It's just too close to a sign of the apocalypse for me.

Now if you're thinking "Good heavens, Amy!  Chemical Pie?  Do you not have any groceries, woman?"  then it might not surprise you to know that today's big outing was to Le Grocery Store.  I was trying to stick to my list, but got so easily sidetracked by such things as a giant vat of pickled beef navels (did not buy), and pre-made chocolate cookie dough on sale (did buy).  I always seem to spend about $50 when I go to the store regardless of what I get; I wonder why this is?  I just sort of wander through the aisles looking at stuff, partially because a childless outing is a Really Big Deal for me, and partially because I already know what I need to buy because I buy pretty much the same type of stuff over and over again.  I always buy canned tomatoes.  I always buy fruit.  I always buy sour cream.  Etc.

Maybe I'm predictable?

It's only taken me two and a half years to realize that if I go grocery shopping, and then I arrive home and it's supper time but I have not prepared supper, life goes down the toilet quite briskly.  So today I made a pot roast in the slow cooker so that I could just come home, cheerily call out "come to the table, my dearest ones!" and eat.  In my dreams.  In reality supper is rather like feeding a zoo over here.  I did get to eat the pot roast and vegetables, but only after nursing the baby to sleep, fielding a phone call, and nursing the baby back to sleep.

And tomorrow is a pot luck at the church.  My intention had been to make a key lime pie.  But I'm sick and I'm grouchy and tired.  I want to sit on the sofa with my husband and drink a lot of tea and grouse about stuff and then go to bed.  So instead I'm making cookies and calling it even; sometimes you're the baseball and sometimes you're the bat, you know?

Anyway, I'm going to go drink that tea.  And have myself a pickled beef navel.  Just kidding.