Ask anyone who knows me well and they'll tell you about my pie hang-ups. I think it started when I was about 10 and I made my first pie, I think a cherry with a lattice top. I say I think because I never got to taste that pie. My little bother and I were always fighting, and at 4 he didn't have a grasp (or maybe be did) of how sublimely irritating he could be. When the pie was cooling on the table, he sat next to it - staring at it - until my parents sent me upstairs for fear I would hit him just for breathing all over it.
