"BIT-TER BAT-TER" (noun) \ˈbi-tər ˈba-tər\ 1: a state of being distasteful or distressing to the mind: <a bitter sense of shame at my batter-making skills> 2: a Rental Revival series in which I drink craft beer and bake, with questionable results
The night before Thanksgiving I attempted to bake a pie from scratch. It was mildly successful. Actually, it was really heavy on the cinnamon and it didn't look half bad. Well, it was pretty tasty, but kind of ugly. It took me two tries.
Here's the thing: I'm not that domestically inclined. I try to be. I really want to be. I want to be an awesome baker, cleaner, organizer, and planner. But it turns out I make a pretty demented looking pie, my room is a mess, and when I attempt to organize things it takes me a lot of determination to do it. I shall call it charming.
I do really want to become talented at these things, though, so I keep trying to better myself, even if it means looking kind of silly and disheveled while doing it. So this past Wednesday, before I made the four-hour trip to Mom and Dad's the next morning for Thanksgiving, I embarked upon my second annual pie-making adventure. And while I was at it, I brought home a six-pack of some really good craft beer, because I'm bad at pie and if I can't be successful easily I'm gonna need a beer or two to aid my attempts. After gathering my supplies and ingredients, I cranked up a vinyl from my collection (Carly Simon's album Anticipation, fittingly enough) and I began my first-ever shot at baking an apple pie.