Failure

I almost didn't make a pie this week. I had every intention to make two to share, in fact, people were expecting it. Two separate people bought me rhubarb, and one of them also bought me the most delicious, irregular, real farmers market strawberries to go with it. I set out to make two rhubarb-strawberry pies, one for the new roommates, one for my coworkers.

I did everything the way it was supposed to be done, even chilling the dough before rolling it out. One moment I was struggling with getting the dough to roll out, but thinking how rhubarb looks like those little candies Grandma kept in a dish on the table, and the sugar was like snow, and what a nice long day in the sun I'd spent with Howard, but god, the dough kept sticking to the vodka bottle I was using as a rolling pin; it wouldn't stay together at all. The next thing I know, I am on the floor of the new kitchen, worried I'm about to cry. I couldn't roll out the dough. It wouldn't happen for me.

I thought about running out to see if any market was open that sold pie crusts.

I tried again and again to roll out the dough. I switched out the balls of dough I had in the freezer and tried until each was a hard little fistful of crumbs. I looked at the pile on the table and knew it wouldn't work.

I threw away the dough, cleaned my dishes, and went back to my room to eat a row of Oreos. Once I felt fat and pathetic, I returned to the kitchen to try again, this time not putting the dough in the freezer. Maybe that was the problem. For awhile, things were looking up. And then I tried to peel it off the table, and it came apart in my hands.

In a fit, I just dumped the dough in the pie pan and pressed it down with my fingers. I spooned the mixture in and sprinkled dough atop. Fuck it.

I don't know what the issue is--maybe I'm tired, maybe it's the late hour, or it's being in a kitchen I don't know with an oven I don't understand and living with people I don't know who don't understand me because I can't afford better.

But goddamnit. I wanted to at least be able to make a pie. The mess that is baking in the oven is hardly what I imagined bringing to work tomorrow. What a humiliation; not being able to make a simple pie.

The pie that nearly broke me