Around Thanksgiving I made eight pies, for various occasions, from scratch--roasting the pumpkins, rolling the crusts, etc. They taste great, and thus all the hard work is worth it. And, I have to admit, I love making them. It brings back memories of home. I used to watch my grandma make perfect paper-thin crusts for her pies. She rolled the dough so effortlessly and never measured anything. She'd put this and that and her magic worked every single time! Also, there is nothing like the smell of roasting pumpkins. When I was a kid one of my favorite treats in the late cold fall was roasted pumpkin cubes covered with caramelized sugar and walnuts.
Every time I made the pies, and the kids were around, they had to come help. Needless to say, they love pumpkin pie. Esther would sit on the counter holding the handle on the mixer bowl, watch, and repeat smilingly "pumpkin pie" for the whole time I do the filling. Samuel would want to actually put ingredients in. He is very good at following instructions when helping me or Richard in the kitchen. The kitchen is the one place he does not question, just does. We had lots of fun!
