The Abandoned Rolling Pin

I’m not a big consumer of processed flour and never buy store bought pastries. But I always want to try my hand at making my own dough, because there’s something so honest and age-old about the process; mixing it, kneading it, shaping it, filling it, baking it, and savouring your hard work.

I’m not the best pastry chef, far from it. The ingredients are so pure and simple, yet the practice is honed to perfection with patience and skill. I haven’t had enough practice to be confident that my pie-crust will turn out the way I want it to. I make maybe two pies a year: Lemon Meringue for my father’s birthday, and Pumpkin Pie for Thanksgiving. This year I baked a few more, and experimented with different recipes for crusts.

The special ingredient Antique Rolling pin my mother and father found in an abandoned house when they were adventuring around the island when they were young. I’m so glad they found it, because if they hadn’t it would’ve been long gone, and  it’s still rolling strong.

It’s well over a hundred years old and my baked goods just wouldn’t taste the same without it.

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