A Baker I Shall Never Be

Tomorrow is the annual pie social where I work. Only last week I had been chatting with the two Brits in my office and somehow mentioned my grandmother's treacle pie. They both started to swoon. I realized that among the many things I never made for my children when they were growing up (popovers, Pavlova cake, the list goes on and on) was treacle pie.

So I decided to rectify this by making a treacle pie for my co-workers. Logic, along with baking, not being one of my strengths.

Almost every one of the online recipes was identical, so I thought I was safe. I went to Central Market and got the essential Lyle's Golden Syrup. It's been a long time since I have done a lattice top pie, but I figured it would all come back. While the pie shell was doing its prelim 10-minute bake, I cut a batch of pastry strips. I vaguely remembered draping the lattice strips over halfway and alternating them. I do know that I never worked with pastry strips on top of a hot-from-oven pie shell that has been filled with a simmering pool of molten lava filling.

Suffice it to say, I gave up attempting to do a legitimate lattice. Let's call it a plaid piecrust, shall we?

The dark side of baking is not something we like to confront.