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Cherry Pai — As I Sit By The River

Once upon a time, not that long ago, but long ago enough that it happened in Chapter One, I was in the mall one evening and there was some kind of a New Age fair being held in the middle.  There was a woman sitting at a table with a pile of Tarot cards and a few pretty pebbles, and she told me that if I would cross her palm with silver (or a 20 shekel note) she would read mine (palm, not the money).  I’m not even sure if I believe in palm readings, but, why not?  I sat down and she took my hand in hers.

“You are going to have many children,” she told me.

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Spontaneous Combustion

Birds of a feather flock together.  Opposites attract.

Ju-boy and I are very similar.  And so different.  We have the same taste in music, but differ on favorite groups.  We each love to cook, but argue over technique and presentation.  We both love to entertain, but have differing opinions as to whom to invite, and when.  We enjoy the same television programs, but argue over character and plot.  The Tom Baker vs David Tennant debate will one day lead to violence (although we are both on the fence regarding Matt Smith). 

One area where there is no common ground is spontaneity.  Ju-boy meticulously plans his life, including the spontaneous moments, while I intend to plan (but God laughs, so I usually give up).  He will go over the menu for Shabbat several times on a Friday morning, while I decide to cook something at the last minute.  Even supermarket shopping is an exact science, but I enjoy making Ju-boy’s eyes roll as I haphazardly toss unnecessary items into the cart.  Still, it works for me.  I am a kite and will go where the wind takes me, held in place by the supportive anchor that is my husband.

Many times my tendency for spontaneity takes the form of either watching a cooking show or reading a foodie blog and then I simply must make whatever dish has at that moment captured my fancy.  Such was the case the other week when I was reading my Zaar friend Marie Alice Joan Rayner’s blog, The English Kitchen.  She posted a recipe for something she calls Magic Pie.  Her description of the pie, her photography, her use of the words “presto chango” just ignited a spark in me, and I quickly scribbled down ingredients and instructions and into the kitchen I went.  Ju-boy was off at work planning the rest of his day and there was no one to stop me.

The fact that you need just one bowl and a whisk lends to the spontaneity of the recipe.

Of course, I had to play around with the recipe, based on the ingredients I had on hand and also based on the fact that I can never leave a recipe alone (not even my own).  I also made this a non-dairy recipe.  For the authentic recipe I suggest that you check out Marie Alice’s post (linked above).  Here is what happened in our house…..



Magic Pie  (the Miriyummy version)

1/2 cup flour

1 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup flaked coconut

4 eggs

1 teaspoon vanilla extract (although I really didn’t measure this)

1/2 cup melted margarine

1/2 cup coarsely ground pecans (original recipe calls for flaked almonds, but Ju-boy claims to be deathly allergic)

2 cups soy milk

  • Preheat the oven to 180 degrees C (350 F).
  • Grease a deep 9 1/2 inch pie or flan dish well and set aside (I actually used a rectangular Pyrex dish).
  • Whisk the flour, sugar, coconut, eggs, vanilla, margarine and the nuts together in a large bowl.
  • Slowly whisk in the soy milk, stirring until completely combined.
  • Pour into the prepared dish and bake in the preheated oven for 45 minutes. Remove from the oven to a wire rack to cool.
  • Serve cut into wedges along with some fruit.

Ju-boy hadn’t planned to have this for dessert when he came home from work, but I have a habit of derailing his plans.

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