19 Years and Pie

Nineteen years ago today, we got married in a hellacious rain/hail storm at a winery (no, Mother, it was not a brewery).  After the supposed outdoor ceremony was hastily moved inside, in front of a stone fireplace, standing room only, lots of people told us that the wedding day rain would be good luck: "one penny for every drop."  Well, maybe we don't have the exact penny-to-drop ratio, but we do have a very rich life in all the ways that count.  Thinking of our loved ones who were there and are still our support system, family who were there but are no longer with us, new friends who weren't there but who are still precious in countless ways.

So to celebrate, he had me some wooden shelves made for the laundry area, we took a walk together, and I made him a buttermilk pie...with buttermilk powder brought from the US back in May.  I've never seen buttermilk here...we have Laban, a sort of buttermilky-like yogurt drink, but who wants to eat "Laban Pie"?  Sounds like "Cow Lips in a Crust" and just don't work raight with a good suthern ack-cent.  It just ain't good and proper...and if anyone out there in Doo-hah saw buttermilk one Sunday seventeen weeks ago at MegaMart, remember that I don't play that drive-around-all-day-going-to-five-groceries-for-one-item-at-a-time game.  Now hush and enjoy the view of our first buttermilk pie in two years...

 

That's some sort of French pastry crust...looks like a pie crust but the damned label is in French...it is mighty fine flaky good.  And the powdered buttermilk worked just right.