Our house smells as if a low of 28 is approaching. A hint of oak wood smoke accompanies a freshly baked turkey pie. After a day mostly occupied with sawing firewood, I'm looking forward to a healthy helping of pastry. I could handle an apple pie for dessert, but decided to bake that another day.
Maybe the lattice top will satisfy me -- for now.
"I don't see you cooking very often," says Virginia.
My gourmet chef, the reason I generally stay away from the stove, left early this morning for her annual trek to Seagrove, North Carolina. Within the hour she'll be opening bags to show me this year's additions to our pottery collection, or maybe nothing caught her eye.
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