While speaking to my cousin-in-law Carol recently she decided to share a tale of pie crust gone wrong that had me shaking my head and upon hanging up the phone crying with full blown belly laughter.
When it comes to class Carol has it in spades. She’s always dressed meticulously. I honestly can’t recall ever seeing her in jeans. Granted, I didn’t see her often in my 28 years living in Mill Valley but whenever I did she was dressed well. My cousin, Don, her and their children moved into the best neighborhood our town had in 1979 and to this day she lives in that gorgeous home. While she did cook for her family and do all the normal housewife things, I also remember her having a weekly maid and such. As a small child, Carol was the one who informed me “girls don’t sweat, they perspire”. So knowing this is what makes this story so hysterical to me. Picturing her with flour in every nook and cranny, her face, her hair is not at all how I’d have ever pictured her. nope nope nope
At the point of this story, definitely pre 1970, they lived in a 1560 square foot, tri-level home that my grandfather and his brother, Don’s father, built. My mother, Joni, told me it was the last house they built. The internet says it was built in 1963. It had one of those long skinny kitchens of the time. Here’s a photo I found of it now that sort of gives you an idea of the kitchen. Goddess bless the internet for photos, right?!?!
My cousin Don’s favorite pie was lemon meringue (mine too along with banana cream). One night after supper and cleaning up the dishes Carol decide she was going to tackle pie crust and surprise him with this dessert. She figured making a pie crust couldn’t be that difficult.
She grabbed the flour, the Crisco and all the other ingredients and got to work. Only to discover it wasn’t working the way she’d expected. After much frustration, a very floury kitchen (apparently this included the ceiling), and thrown away dough she decided to call my mother. At this point in our conversation I had to interrupt her with ” Joni couldn’t bake” to which she told me she didn’t know that at the time. It was all I could do not to die laughing then and there but I didn’t want the story to end.
Joni comes over and two non bakers attempt to tackle this. All the while Don is sitting at the far end of the kitchen watching and laughing as these two are making a bigger mess and still can’t get it done.
Finally at about 10pm Joni tells Carol she’s going to call Aunt Carrie. (My great aunt lived directly across from my maternal grandparent’s house where Joni lived and I grew up and primarily lived till I left CA.) Carol tried telling Joni it was too late but Joni said no Aunt Carrie would do it. She called, Aunt Carrie agreed so Joni drove the few blocks to go pick her up.
Aunt Carrie was definitely the family baker and always made her pies from scratch. Aunt Carrie in her ankle length nightgown, ankle length robe and rollers in her hair came in, whipped out a crust and had it in the oven then proceeded to clean the entire kitchen while Joni and Carol sat there mouths agape because it was done in a flash.
I picture Lucy and Ethel trying to bake bread
or Lucy with pizza dough
Either way, bless Carol for wanting to spoil her husband. Good on Joni for trying to help though she couldn’t bake a lick. Thank the stars Aunt Carrie was nearby and able and willing to help these two young women out of their attempt.
I am so thankful Carol shared this story with me. It truly put her into a new light and gave me a laugh like I hadn’t had in quite some time.
