Friday, November 28, 2014

Yes, Pecan!

This is my last post about Thanksgiving until next year, I promise.

Regular readers know by now that I no longer eat sweets. I didn't give them up, per se; I just stopped wanting (and being able to tolerate) sweet foods. I don't know how it happened, because if I did I'd be writing this on a much more expensive computer...or dictating to my hot, overpaid personal assistant.

Not too overpaid...wouldn't want him to be able
to afford a shirt.
Anyway, I made a pecan pie for Thanksgiving. Precocious Daughter likes pecan pie, so I made one. I make sweet things all the time, knowing that I won't be eating them. I just put that part of it out of my mind and do it anyway, because I'm so freaking loving and giving that way.

Also, if you're sewing designer jeans in a Bangladeshi
sweatshop for 12 cents a day, you don't want to think
too much about whether they'd make your butt look good.
It's like that.
But last night, after sitting around digesting a massive turkey dinner for a few hours, I decided I wanted a little something more to eat. And what I decided I wanted was a slice of my pecan pie.

I don't trust pecan pies where the pecans are all
neatly lined up. Seems like witchcraft to me.
I cut myself a small sliver, put it on a plate, and steeled myself for the disappointment of not being able to handle more than one bite.

And then...a miracle occurred.

Sort of like the miracle of Joey Ramone, in that nobody knows
what the hell that has to do with anything, Bono.
My pecan pie was delicious. And I loved every delicious bite. Maybe the nutty topping and the flaky crust balanced out the sweet, gooey filling and made it palatable to me. I don't know. But let me tell you, the second slice was every bit as good as the first.

Probably I should not start baking pecan pies every week. My body is better off without sweets, after all. And I don't actually miss them that much. But I can see me polishing off at least a pie a week, if it continues to taste like heaven in a glass plate the way my Thanksgiving pie did.

Not great for my waistline. Still, it gives me hope for the future.

Hope and change, baby. If that's not something to be thankful for, I don't know what is.

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