Pecan Pie (Thanksgiving 2012)

I have a habit of reading the Acknowledgements page inside books.

It's the really personal aspects of it that appeal to me. Fiction or nonfiction, I feel like I'm getting away from the author's "writing voice" and to his or her "speaking voice." The voice that might, for instance, tell Mom how publishing's coming along and how it's a pain in the butt but darn it, this thing will get here before summer. Or chat briefly with the barista who brews their morning/afternoon/dead of night coffee. Or answer a terse "Nope" to the question "Do you need anything?"

Elaborate or concise, emotional or mechanical, acknowledgements are both precious and necessary. This is already the second Thanksgiving I'm celebrating here on this blog, and so I thought it'd be nice to have my own Acknowledgements section for today.

So, without further ado, I'm deeply grateful to:

- God, for all the love, blessings, and grace. I know I'm a handful. More importantly, I know that you know I'm a handful. Every good thing I have I credit back to you, Jesus.
- Mom (and the part of the family I'm on good terms with), for your patience, cuteness, dork factor, and the late nights listening to my rants and concerns.
- 소영집사님, for all the prayers, encouragements, and advice about life. I find it incredible how one person can embody so much empathy and compassion for others.
- My guy friends- the best guys a girl can ever wish for. At least three of you had genuinely complimented me at one time and told me I'm beautiful. It was such an honor. I won't ever forget it.
- Ms. Gaston, for all the enthusiastic Facebook "like"s, the stalwart support, and your never-ending positive energy. You're one of the bravest people I know, because you teach high school students and say you love it. You mighty soul, you.
- Tomi, for letting me bring out my silly/fun/sassy side. I don't show that side of myself to most people. Thanks for not running away when I start making funny faces.
- The staff at Emory College Writing Center! Words can't explain how much I miss my home away from home at Emory. I can't wait to come back and read papers with you again at Callaway.
- and lastly, my readers. I'm deeply appreciative of every chance I have to share something with you. Thanks for dealing with my awkwardness. That means a lot.

With much love,
Rae

Basics: Pie Crust

People will be impressed when you bake a pie from scratch.

This is one of the truest statements I can type, with confidence.

No, putting a frozen, fully assembled store-bought pie into a preheated oven does NOT count as baking a pie from scratch. It may be delicious, but it's still not made from scratch. You may like the taste and convenience of that prepackaged pie- and that's more than fine- but that pie's still not made from scratch.

Let us pinky promise and hold ourselves accountable to two things: 1. To withhold judgment on those who like their pies pre-made from Publix but baked to perfection at home but 2. To give credibility where it's due when bakers lovingly craft their pies from the essential ingredients.

Say you make the filling yourself, but use a ready-made pie crust. That pie will be semi-homemade and partially baked from scratch. People will be impressed. And they will tell you you're cool and amazing and thoughtful.

But. BUT! Say you go the whole nine yards, measure out the dang ingredients, mix the fruits and the sugars, AND roll your own pie crust at home. Can you imagine the accolades, the hugs, the adoring looks rightfully bestowed upon your boss self?? That you took the time to learn about pie crusts, get your arms covered with flour, and master the art of pie baking?

Yeah. This^ needs to happen.

Of course homemade pie crust isn't for everyone. Not everyone is meant to roll their own crust, let alone bake a pie in the first place. Still, it's more of a reason for someone to be impressed, knowing you're not used to dealing with pie dough. Plus it's really fun, not to mention totally worthwhile. At least give it a thought. Bear with me. Bear with the process. You won't regret it.

Sweet Potato Biscuits

Way back when I used to live in Korea, I used to take piano lessons from a lady who lived in the next apartment building over.

My piano teacher beautiful and talented and she was also scary as hell. She was a ferocious force to be reckoned with. When you're a kid, there are certain adults you know instinctively not to cross...and she was one of them. You couldn't fool her if you tried. She knew you hadn't practiced by the way you walked in the door. But she also got you to master "Fur Elise" before your seventh birthday.

She was also known for being this queen bee of all the housewives. She was sassy, she was smart, and she knew things most people didn't. If she cooked a certain dish or tried a new project or wore something new, everyone else followed and copied. If she did it, then by golly they had to, as well.

One day, she invited us to eat sweet potatoes at her home. I thought to myself, what's the big deal with sweet potatoes? Then I got there and realized these sweet potatoes were different. They were reddish instead of dark brown. Their flesh was orange and moist instead of deep yellow and somewhat dry. They were sweet, just in a different way.

Ladies and gentlemen, that was little Rae was eating her first American sweet potato.

Every time I eat a fat, orange tuber, I think about that day. When I baked these biscuits, I thought about my piano teacher. And I wonder how she's doing, if her two children have grown to be as strong and talented as their mother. I think one day I'll give her a call. Tell her thank you for all she did.

Tell her how she scared the heck out of me but it's all good.

Amaretto Pound Cake

Lately a few of my friends have been trying their hand at desserts from this blog. 

Ben baked banana bread (yeah, the same awkward one I mentioned in my last post). Tomi baked coconut macaroons and peanut butter cup cookies. They even posted pictures, and the food looked ridiculously delicious. I was so proud.

To be honest, though, it felt a bit surreal. I guess I always feel like most people visit my blog, glance over the pictures, and scroll down the page, saying, "Oh, that's nice." So when people actually bake something I wrote about, it's hard to believe it really happened. At least for me, anyway, at this stage of blogging. I always feel like such a newbie.

But then recipes like this amaretto pound cake come along, and I think to myself, gee, I should maybe loosen up on the visibility of this thing. Screw the pessimism that says nobody will really care. Let the haters hate and let awesome people bake.

You know why? Pound cake is the absolute bomb. No exotic ingredients. No complicated prep work. No breaking the bank. Simply flour, sugar, butter, and eggs baked to cake perfection. This particular recipe adds some sweet aromatic amaretto liqueur to the batter. The toasted almonds on top make it look so professional. It's so delicious I've already baked it on three different occasions.

Dang it, you know something this good has to be shared.

There are no step-by-step pictures today. No drawn-out, detailed explanations. All I'm going to tell you is that you can toast the almonds on stovetop over medium heat or in the oven at 350. About 10 minutes or so should do it. (Don't let them burn, though.)

Before I leave this post here, a million hugs to Tomi and Ben. I miss you :)

And if you're a future reader, a big hello and a nice-to-meet-you.

Citrus Cornmeal Shortbread

When I started this blog, I had not considered food photography at all.

My thinking went something along the lines of: "I'll bake, snap a few shots, write up a blurb, and click Publish." The blog, being up and running, was of the utmost concern. The elements of lighting, camera angle, composition, etc. just went shooosh over my head.

It was about two posts in that I realized beautiful pictures were a must, and about a year in that I looked back at my previous posts and let out a horrified gasp.

There it was, my beautiful loaf of banana bread, forcibly caught at an awkward moment. I'm sure if it could've talked, it would've said, "Hey...so.....what the eff..."

I like to think I survived this far on the sheer kindness of people who like me enough to like my pictures for me. I'm a work in progress, the same with this blog. It's just awesome that I get to do it with the most enthusiastic people cheering me on. Still, not everything I bake turns out delicious. I also take way more off pictures than I'd like to admit.

Dare I say I like it that way? Dare I say that very awkwardness is incredibly endearing?

For instance, I baked these gorgeous shortbread cookies. They're actually more beautiful in real life. Cornmeal seems like it should belong in a warm bowl of grits, but here it's like they were meant to be shortbread. I thought the golden cookies would pair well with a blue plate with golden rims.

Long story short, I baked these cookies. I took a picture.

I liked. Very much. :)