I tend to believe that if I can PICTURE a craft or recipe working in my head, it will work.
Unfortunately, “picture it working” is not ever in any set of instructions.
So thank you Pi Day, March 14 (3.14), for showing me that my natural lack of talent for all things math is only rivaled by natural lack of talent for making pie crusts. Here’s a snapshot of our celebration of Pi Day, a.k.a. Kill the Food Processor Day in my household.
“Let’s make pie for Pi day!” I said it with such hope in my voice. I didn’t realize my day would end with a broken food processor, demolished kitchen, and a distress call to my mother.
Martha wanted apple pie. Carter wanted chocolate pie. Eleanor wanted all the pie because that’s how youngest children view the world. All the pies in all the world are meant for me, and I’ll bring joy to everyone watching me enjoy the pie. I’m a youngest child myself, so I can say that and no one is allowed to get offended. The youngest says so.
We got our headbands on and got to work. As the girls took turns dumping cups of flour into the fod processor, it began to look too full. But it was time to toss in the chunks of butter, and I could totally picture the butter making its way down to the blade and it working, so I just kept going. The girls began pointing out the chunks of butter that weren’t getting any smaller. I got out a knife to stick down that canal opening in the food processor.
I actually was successful at pushing down some of the butter into the blade. Did I mention the food processor was running during this time? I was mid-sentence, “Girls, never stick a knife or any utensil in here when it’s running.” I didn’t finish that sentence because I illustrated my point perfectly. I dropped the knife and the food processor gave the cry of a motor stopped in its tracks…by a knife.
I took a deep breath and said in my unnaturally high voice that happens when I’m trying to be okay when I’m not okay, “You know what? This is okay. We can get a new food processor.”
My 9-year-old practical, organized daughter scrunched her face. “This from the lady who says we need a coupon for everything and that we’ll run to Aldi for that because it’s cheaper there. And now we’re just going to go buy a new food processor?!”
Even though I sometimes break machinery, I was so proud of myself. I have trained that girl well. If she knows about coupons, the glory of Aldi, and the power of speaking honestly when my voice goes into its high pitch, she’s good to go out into this world.
We dumped out the food processor contents. Of course some went on the floor, in the crack between the stove and the counter, and into Eleanor’s hair. But we kneaded that flour/butter mixture into something that totally resembled pie crust!
My mom, whom I had called with distress in my voice a little earlier, came by and concealed all of her true thoughts behind her surprised eyes and a “hmmm” after hearing our progress report.
She helped us get the crust into the pie plate and somehow we ended up with pie.
It probably doesn’t taste the best, but we made pie for Pi Day. Plus, my girls will never forget the lesson of not sticking utensils into the food processor.
P.S. My math-y husband wanted this to be 628 words since 6.28 is a circle’s circumference divided by its radius. (Insert eye roll here.)