It's the Saturday before the Pieathalon!
That means I am bound by tradition to tease my special "guest" who, for no apparent reason, will help me taste the pie. I am amused by incorporating guests and you just have to humor me.
This year's guest is (per usual) not from my pie recipe's era, the 1950s, but I'm fully confident he could figure out a way to travel back to the 1950s if he knew he could make a lot of money and/or score some unusual drugs from the endeavor.
He materialized in my cookbook room as promised, looked around, and said, "Well, this is a real dump. Did you raid a Half Price Books for everything that was falling apart and then blast it all into this room with a T-shirt cannon? What do y-urp... What do you want?"
"You're coming to help taste my Pieathalon entry on Monday. I want to tease my guest taster's identity, so pick out a recipe to represent yourself and I'll post it today."
He gave me an incredulous look. "Really, Poppy? Really? Take a good look at me and tell me you can't pick a recipe yourself. Quit wasting my time. Humans are such p...urp... pieces of shit."
With that, he was gone. I grabbed the nearest community fundraising cookbook (Catalina's Cactus Cuisine, Catalina Junior Woman's Club of Tucson, Arizona, 1968), and found this.
Okay, sweet is pushing it a bit, but otherwise, this is appropriate. Special guest and I will see you on Monday with our pie report!