I have eaten enough sugar in the last week to...I don't know what. Make a horse sing, or fly, or something. Everyone wants to feed the pregnant lady, including the pregnant lady. Hopefully I won't give birth to a twelve pound Sugarbaby. Anything's possible.
I love hanging in my parent's kitchen, making whatever. Yesterday, I made "detox" soup (onion, garlic, carrots, celery, cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower and spinach-sweated with a bit of Earth Balance, salt and pepper, then added 6 cups of homemade turkey stock and simmered for 25 minutes, pureed and served with
Zingerman's Farm Bread), which was sorely needed. A few days prior, when I was feeling virtuous and full of Thanksgiving spirit, dad and I whipped up two pies and a batch of his famous divinity.
First, you have to check out mom's gingerbread babies:
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| Frosting diapers. Genius, mom. |
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| Dad and I got busy making pies before we hit the road. |
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| Pecan pie's a bakin' |
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| Ta dah! |
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| Pumpkin. Filling made from scratch. Graham cracker crust made by Keebler. |
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