Baking (or Burning) with Benjamin

by Ben Grabow

Ah, mid-October. The time of year when the leaves begin to turn, when our lips become horribly chapped, and everything we touch elicits a 20,000 volt shock.

These things alone can bring about a certain nostalgia for autumns gone by. But the middle of fall means more than static electricity. This is pumpkin pie season. And I do enjoy my pumpkin pie.

That's why today on °°Baking with Benjamin,°° we're going to learn how to make a pumpkin pie of our very own – from scratch.

By scratch, of course, I mean frozen pie crusts and pre-made pumpkin pie mix. (Look up at the picture. Do I look like Martha Stewart?)

You'll also need two large eggs and a can of evaporated milk. Any recipe that calls for eggs and a can opener is still fairly complicated. And dangerous, for that matter.

First, drive out to Kroger's and roam around the aisles looking for your ingredients. Spend at least 30 minutes hunting for a 5-ounce can of evaporated milk, and then pretend to ignore the cashier's snickers as you check out.

Once you've gathered all the ingredients, clean a space in the kitchen to do the dirty work. This will involve clearing your counters of empty beer cans, small animals and sleeping roommates.

Here's where the cooking begins. First, turn the oven knob to 425 degrees. This is called "pre-heating" the oven. If you don't have an oven, there wasn't much sense in buying all those ingredients. Now don't you feel stupid.

While waiting for the oven to heat up, begin mixing the ingredients. Open the mix and milk with a can opener. If you aren't coordinated enough to work the can opener, beat the cans repeatedly against the counter. This ought to wake any snoozing roommates still in the kitchen.

In a bowl, stir together the mix, evaporated milk and eggs. Be sure to crack the eggs open first.

Once your pie filling is well mixed, carefully pour it into a frozen pie crust. Now open your oven, and wonder why it's still cold. Realize you have to turn the oven knob to "bake," then slap your forehead in disgust.

Twenty minutes later, pop the pre-pie into the oven. Technically, it isn't a pie until it's finished. Don't believe me? Ever tasted frozen pie crust and cold mix? It's a pre-pie.

After 15 minutes, turn the oven to 350 degrees. (This is complicated, I know).

Now, you wait. And continue to wait. And no matter how good it starts to smell, keep waiting. Smack any roommates attempting to open the oven.

After an hour, remove your baked pie. If the pie has been neglected for more than an hour, respectfully spread its ashes in the yard, or someplace that was important to the pie in its living days.

In the unlikely event that the pie actually turns out right, set it out to cool. If you'd like, set it on your windowsill. But keep an eye out for squirrels. They like pie.

After an hour or two of cooling off, your pie is ready to eat. Keep the pie to yourself, and refuse to share it with anyone, especially anyone who didn't help you make it. Apply whipped cream at your own discretion.

Halfway through the pie, or when you feel as though you may burst with pumpkin goodness, hide the leftovers. Leftover pumpkin pie is a powerful bartering tool. If used wisely, someone might even clean the kitchen for you. After all, cooking and doing the dishes are two very different things.

So that's all for today's °°Baking with Benjamin.°° Be sure and tune in next week for °°How to Ruin a Hot Pocket.°° Until then, I'm Ben and my oven mitt is on fire.

Ben smells something burning. Send him an e-mail at Benjamin.Grabow@ohiou.edu