Pumpkin pie fail

By Sue Teehan

When I got married, my older sister Lee threw me a recipe shower. Everyone knew I wasn’t a very good cook and she hoped this party would prove helpful. Guests were invited to write down a recipe and bring the spice that went into the dish. 

My grandmother, Mimi, brought a card inscribed with the family pumpkin pie recipe and gave it to me with a container of pumpkin pie spice.

That year we decided to have a family progressive dinner on Christmas Day. At the first stop, we’d eat snacks and salad. At the next stop, turkey with all the trimmings. I volunteered to host the dessert course, planning to cook and serve Mimi’s pumpkin pie.

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I read the recipe several times. Something didn’t seem quite right, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I assembled all the ingredients and then prepared and baked two pie shells. Next, I mixed the filling and poured it into the pie shells. They sure didn’t look like pumpkin pies, but I thought they might look better after chilling. I made a large batch of homemade whipped cream and popped that in the fridge as well.

Upon our guests’ arrival, I invited everyone to sit at the table. My husband served coffee and other beverages while I cut the pies and plated them. Orange liquid seeped all over the plates. I quickly covered it all with lots of whipped cream and served it.

No one said a word as they ate a couple of bites, probably to spare the new bride’s feelings. Finally, my grandmother broke the silence.

”Sue, dear. How long did you bake these pies?” 

“Bake them?” I squeaked, grabbing the recipe card and showing it to Mimi. She was horrified to realize she’d left off the all-important information about what temperature and how long to bake the pies. 

My darling husband rolled his eyes skyward as I realized I had just served my entire family raw pumpkin pie.

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A double layer of trouble

By Rosalie Davis

The night before a friend’s birthday, I decided to make my tried-and-true chocolate cake for the celebration. As I checked my supplies, I realized I didn’t have enough cocoa, so I borrowed some from my daughter. 

I mixed up the ingredients, poured the batter into two round cake pans and baked them for 30 minutes, but they came out oddly dented in the center—not domed like usual. I turned them upside down on the cooling racks. 

After 10 minutes, I tried removing the cakes from the pans, but they wouldn’t budge. To my horror, my beautiful cakes were stuck like glue and doughy in the middle. I threw them out, washed the pans and decided to try again. 

I needed more cocoa, but the nearest store was out. The second store had it, but with a hefty price tag. I sighed and bought it anyway.

For my second attempt, I prepared the pans, mixed the ingredients, and licked the spoon—only to realize the batter wasn’t sweet. I’d forgotten the sugar! Quickly, I stirred some in at the last minute.

I returned the refilled pans to the oven, but my hopes deflated like the soggy middles of the cakes. When I removed them, the results were the same: gooey batter in the center. I scooped it out, tossed it and washed the pans again. 

The third time’s the charm, right? This time, I meticulously prepared the pans, double-checked the ingredients and mixed the batter.

Although one cake overflowed slightly, both baked with the desired dome shape. When I flipped them onto the cooling racks, one stubbornly clung to the pan. After applying a cold, wet cloth to the bottom of the pan, I finally released it—but a small chunk stayed behind. Naturally, I ate it. It tasted fine!

I whipped up the chocolate frosting and filled the missing chunk with frosting, stacking the layers carefully. By the end, the cake looked perfect—no trace of the disasters that preceded it.