We had some friends over to our house this weekend who tasted the Coconut Cream Pie that I previously posted about. I was so happy to see how much they enjoyed it!
My friend asked me if it had Almond in it! I told her, "You know that's weird because I tasted a hint of almond too, but no, it's Vanilla Extract."
She remained perplexed and unconvinced, insisting that she was tasting almond, so I looked at my baking cupboard at the Vanilla and Almond extract bottle. Um, oops. Although the recipe called for Vanilla, I used Almond! Which began to make perfect sense because I thought it was strange how I had noticed the Vanilla Extract to be clear - but quickly passed it off and assumed Imitation Vanilla Extract was just that, imitation, and thus must be clear and not brown like usual Vanilla Extract.
My mom had already read and commented to me about how when she read the post about the imitation vanilla extract - she thought to herself, uh oh. . . but I guess didn't have the heart to tell me. She remains a proud mama and supports my domestic efforts in the kitchen...
My friend then slowly put her fork down and sweetly suggested I just keep my little special secret ingredient a secret - you know like little old Italian ladies do - or the Bush's Baked Beans Dog who won't even reveal the secret as if world chaos would break out around American BBQ's....
But after careful consideration, and in the spirit of admitting my faults and domestically challenged ways, I felt the need to come clean and reveal my "mishap turned tasty miracle" so that others may too experience the joy and wonderment of this amazing dessert. I even felt a bit like Einstein - I mean, some of the best inventions arose from what should have been either blatant errors or casual mishaps.
And at the end of the night, when all that was left of the 9-inch glass pie pan was a shell of the last piece of pie and scattered crust crumbs, Bryan and I just had to laugh about how we will never get upset at each other when we see evidence of a plate-less snacking. When digressed about our childhood memories of when we would get always try to get away with eating communal food straight from the dish and get scolded whenever we were caught red-handed.
The amazing thing about marrying your best friend who understands your quirky ways is that neither one of us passes judgment if we catch the other person indulging in a late night snack. Sure, it can be embarrassing, and some may call it lazy, to be caught in the dimly-lit kitchen late at night, standing wedged between the refrigerator door illuminated only by the glow of the halogen lights, spooning bite by bite directly from the pan. But let's face it, the fact that I made anything that is worthy of the late-night vertical snacking variety is an accomplishment in and of itself.
An on that note, I have found it to be very effective to purchase two cartons of milk, one for Bryan, and one for me. I never drink milk by itself and only use it to bake or on my cereal while Bryan prefers to chug it straight from the carton. I think in some way it's his testosterone making a statement that he is a man, and he doesn't need a glass to drink milk. Men's brains, unlike women's, work this way: Why go to the effort of dirtying a glass that you will later nag me to wash when I can just get it on tap?
And although there is some valid logic to that point, more than that, I just think men feel liberated chugging away, mouth to the carton, in a primal kind of way!
That being said, I know full well that for whatever reason, whether a man is a bachelor or the head of the household, he is going to continue to drink milk straight from the carton. It's just one of those things. So as opposed to wondering, or causing a late night secret trip to the fridge and causing anxiety and instilling fear of being caught, just get two cartons! That way, the freedom to chug is had by men, and women are free to bake and pour from their own carton without wondering whether a portion of that milk is backwash contaminated!
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