When Caite and I get to Chicago together, we beg Gramma to make pies with us. Apple is the family favorite, but really they don't care. I have never seen any of them refuse a piece of Gramma's pie.
I wish I could share the recipe. I sort of know it but all of the adjustments are made on the fly, which is exactly why it tastes so good.
How's that song go?
You'll get pie in the sky when you die. One can only hope...
I want it now...
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