Nov 28, 2010


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:

Frosting diapers. Genius, mom.

Dad and I got busy making pies before we hit the road.

Pecan pie's a bakin'

Ta dah!

Pumpkin. Filling made from scratch. Graham cracker crust made by Keebler.

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