This was one seriously cantankerous, crumbly crust. It was belligerent. Rude. Unyielding. Disobedient. You get the picture. It was a two-year old and a 17-year old with a criminal record, all rolled up into one. Well, minus the rolling-up part, because that just really wasn't happening.
I was lured in today by the claim that theirs was "hands down" the best crust Evah. Plus, I just so happened to have 4 sticks of butter burning a hole in my pocket.
I followed directions. I did not overwork. I prayed and pleaded.
In the end, the crust tastes just fine. I'll be honest - I've never been a crusty girl. I'm far more concerned with what rests between - something juicy and sweet with plenty of goop. And if we could make it peach or raspberry, that'd be fantastic.
The moral of the story is this: I officially prefer shortening to butta. When it comes to crust. I will not be slathering a biscuit with Crisco, so all is still mostly right in the world. But as for pies? Transfat me up, baby.
Now, for the good news of the week:
I'm learning that there's more to life than pink and purple flowers.Diversity is the cat's pajamas.
Butterflies are vain. They spot a camera and get all Tyra Banks on you.
We found sunglasses for $2 at the Dented Can.Ruby's have already broken, but they were good while they lasted.
(Again, with the Barbie arms!)
Our lunches have taken on a decidedly European flair.
And you can keep your bowl. As it turns out, life is a whole tree of cherries.