You didn’t know this, but I entered an apple pie in a local contest on the weekend.
Yup, made a showpiece-pie with our own apples, Grandma Brown’s recipe, right in between apple-cider making, sheep-shearing, chicken-pot-pie-making, funeral-wreath-making, singing-at-the-memorial-servicing….
I had hesitated to enter the contest because I’m a winner at losing. In my whole life, I’m not one to win things. I don’t take bets. I lose them. SO, I hesitated.
But, pressure, people! Two different parties encouraged me to enter. (Two! That’s akin to a mob.)
I said ‘what the heck’ and gave it our best. Dropped the beauty off right out of the oven into the hands of the organizers at the Shaftsbury Historical Society’s reenactment preparations at the old Galusha homestead.
I felt good about that pie. But you know, I couldn’t fuss over it any more than the usual pie that goes out our kitchen door. And I don’t let pies go out the door that I don’t feel good about.
That was that.
Fourth place, folks. Loser again. But I got the nicest email from one of the organizers. I feel great about that:
“Sorry you didn’t win. You missed third place by 1 point. If you saw 1st place, you’ll understand why that pie won. Very artfully decorated. 2nd place pie had nuts in it with looked like a sugar cookie crust. 3rd was more of a deep dish pie. Judges wrote on your scorecard…classic American pie, tastes like grandma baked it. Not everyone had written comments on their cards.
Thank you for entering. We had more activity at the pie table this year. I hope next year will be bigger & that you’ll enter another pie….and win!”
OH! How kind.
But I won’t be entering. I’ll be too busy eating humble-pie.