Here we go

I went to the airport wonderfully prepared to do the little bit of homework that I needed to do over this Thanksgiving break. Then I bought Julia Child’s book My Life in France. So much for the stupid history book.

Anyway my roommates had a Thanksgiving Day feast with their friends on Sunday, and I did all of the clean up. I wasn’t so excited about Mickey Mouse coming around while we’re gone and chewing up and pooing all over my stuff. Call me selfish, but unwanted guests are just not my cup of tea. So back to the feast and I did the clean up and the apt looks lovely. One of the guys who came ran to Whole Foods and got his girlfriend flowers while he was at our place. Awww cute. I threw up a little actually; if you run into a store and have to buy your significant other flowers just for the heck of it, there is something wrong with you. Maybe your mom brainwashed you into thinking that flowers equal love. THEY DIE!!! But a cute bracelet, ring or earrings now those equal love. (Matt are you taking notes?)

Yeah he left them at our apt. It’s the thought that counts right? Anyway the flowers are traveling with me. They would have died alone if I didn’t bring them. I think it’s a pretty good payment for my cleaning and my mom will think I’m the best daughter ever for bringing her flowers. Plus do you have any idea how adorable my canvas bag looks with a bouquet poking out of it. I’m all for looking cute, contrary to popular belief.

Now I landed in the city of brotherly love around 10:15. My Bella-boo or the B-Machine as Matt has decided to call her is coming to get me. Yeah I think my dad’s coming too; Bella just can’t seem to pass the driving test. (It’s ok B it took me 4 times to get it; keep trying.) Then we are rushing home for a little holiday cooking. By a little I mean A LOT.

Do you have any idea how big my dad’s family is? My sister said and I quote “Everyone’s coming. Even Titi Margie.” So yeah this means that the house will be packed, the turkey is 22 pounds, and Emily’s not invited unless the peanut butter pie is made.

If you think I’m joking about not being invited, you just don’t know my family. When my Titi Stella decided to have Christmas, she called me and said she wanted me to make the peanut butter pie. She then hid it in her freezer for her kids and said I brought it just for them. Hello outraged cousins. I think it was actually Uncle Tony who noticed it first.

He’s a big fan of good food. He’s lived in a family with some of the best cooks in the world. Yes I said it, and no I’m not biased. This is hardcore raw talent the Gonzalez Huertas Hinkels have. Doesn’t it just bring you joy to hear Hinkel in that mix? If you doubt the PA Dutch talent, you can just take it out with Uncle Bud. His wings will set you straight.

Back to the peanut butter pie. It is just amazing. I am very biased about this, because quite honestly if I could have lunch with anyone in all of history it would be George Washington Carver. I’m in love. He invented peanut butter. How can you not think the guy’s amazing? My peanut butter pie recipe is so easy it practically makes itself. The only reason no one else in the family makes it is because it’s my job. I have to earn my invite.

Peanut Butter Pie:
6 oz. cream cheese
3/4 cups of confectioner sugar
2 tablespoons of milk
1/2 cup of peanut butter
8 oz. container of Cool Whip

Blend the cream cheese and the confectioner sugar. Add in the milk. Mix in the PB. Fold in the Cool Whip, and do the cool whip dance while doing it. The last step is of the utmost importance. Be sure not to skip it. Scoop the mixture into a oreo or graham cracker crust. I like to freeze the pie if I'm taking it somewhere so it doesn't get too soft. Pretty much you're going to have to trouble not eating all of the filling before you actually eat the pie.

Happy Eating!!!

Emily