Dear Pumpkin Pie,
I want to be mad at you, I really do. Today, while browsing the wonderful food of The Fresh Market, your gleaming beauty attracted me from afar. The $5.99 price tag was extremely alluring.
You see, Pumpkin Pie, you have filled my round belly every fall for as long as I can remember. Thanksgivings spent as a child at my Grandma’s house consisted of me conspiring to skip the turkey and fill up exclusively on you, and your distant cousin, Pecan Pie. The deep south knows how to do pies, and you all knew just how to make my mouth water.
As the years passed, the tradition of you and your cousin Pecan never stopped. Somewhere along the way, you were no longer fresh-baked in our home, but I would gratefully accept a thawed-out piece of your firm center and flaky crust. I convinced myself that you, Pumpkin, are much more healthy than Pecan, but in my heart of hearts, I know that you are both devilishly bad, and full of items that make me feel sluggish.
You traveled home with me, safe and cozy in my re-usable grocery bag. No plastic for you. You did great hanging out in the trunk of my car, and I somehow felt justified with you there since you were surrounded with fresh, whole foods that I would also consume this week.
I brought out Mr. Coffee (whose proper name is Cuisinart, but he thinks that’s too girly), and brewed up a fresh pot of espresso roast coffee. While it brewed, I opened up your pretty box and took a normal-sized slice of you. I sat down with my fresh coffee and nibbled away, my head drifting off into some dreamland of sugar, flour, and memories.
Before I knew it. my plate was clear. Knowing how wonderfully giving you are, I went back for another slice.
The hours of the day ticked by, and between your lure and my hungry belly, I ate another piece of you.
To make up for my transgressions with you, I decided vegetables would counteract your effects. We both know this is a lie, but it got me to eat some roasted Broccoli*, so it’s all good.
Now, I will drift off to sleep full of you and Broccoli. I will not blame either of you if I have nightmares, as we all know this is not a natural combination of foods. Tomorrow, you are taking a trip with my husband to work, where you can tempt all of his hungry co-workers. So long my friend, I hope we don’t meet again soon.
*Roasted broccoli: cut up broccoli heads into pieces. Toss with olive oil, minced garlic, and salt. Bake on a cookie sheet at 400 degrees fahrenheit for 15-20 minutes. Check it at the 15 minute mark, just in case. I burned some of mine, yet it still tasted delicious.