Regularly, my wife does things that remind me of why I married her. Yesterday, she did one of those things. Recognizing that I forgot to make a pie in February, she suggested we make two pies in March. And as if introducing the thought of making (and eating) two pies didn't make me love her enough, she suggested making two pies in one day.

She also knows my limitations. She understands that when the box says 10-15 minutes prep time, that means 25-35 minutes in Omar time. So she volunteered to make one of the pies, though it was slightly unconventional in the context of omarphillips.net pies of the month. For dinner, she made baked spaghetti pie. Unfortunately, I don't have much to say about the wife's pie-making experience. While she was making her pie, I was watching some kid who took a nap in the afternoon for the first time in months and as a result had way more energy than he has had at any point after 5pm than he ever has had in his life as he ran around and around and around the house.

What I can talk about is how good it smelled and tasty it was:

Then it came time for my pie. I had purchased supplies to make a cherry pie several weeks ago, but I just hadn't found the time to make it. Last night was the time. I invited the guys from Warrant over and I got to work. Unlike previous pies, I decided to step up, be a man, and make my own pie crust. I understand that some might not associate manhood with making pie crusts. That's your prerogative. But if you're going to question my manhood, just remember that I also like mowing lawns and grilling steaks.

I didn't want to bombard this post with photos, so you'll have to go to my Flickr page to view the crust making adventure. I can pretty well summarize the event by saying there was a big mess, lots of flour, and one hell of a fine looking crust (before it was baked).

When it was all said and done, I think it came out pretty well. I'd give it a B for taste (the crust was perhaps a little thick), and a B- for appearance.