Pumpkin Pie

Sometimes, it's the small things that matter most.

Tonight we had some folks around for a BBQ to celebrate my birthday, a little early. I decided I'd make a pumpkin pie for the occasion, the only connection being, well, I'm American.

So I used the most dented of the three cans of pumpkin that I recently brought from America (the left-most one in the photo at the top of my recent post with a couple photos from my US trip; all three were a gift from my friend Reid who wanted to make sure I was able to make pumpkin pie for Nigel). It's hard to go wrong when most everything is pre-mixed and measured, but I still had to make a few adjustments: I had to convert the temperature to Celsius and our tin of evaporated milk, being metric, had more than 12 ounces in it.

But I overcame all that. The only problem was the crust was a bit over done, but the rest was perfect. Spices, texture, “wetness” were all as they should have been.

Nigel made a lovely BBQ dinner, and we had plenty of really good food and wine. But, of course, it was dessert I was hanging out for.

The photo shows my piece of the pie, with maybe (perhaps) a bit more whipped cream than may be advisable (but the perfect amount for me). I don't want to hear anything about the crust: The bit in the photo looks pretty burned (it wasn't). This was the first piece of pumpkin pie I've had in thirteen years or more (I can't remember for sure), so to me it was perfect.

It was a small thing, really. Sometimes they count for the most.