All I wanted for Thanksgiving was sweet potato pie. This was my first attempt at making one, so I was a little afraid that I would ruin my own Thanksgiving. My first mistake was trying to peel uncooked sweet potatoes. Don't ask my why I did that. My hands ached for days. I did get them peeled, as I was under a time crunch. I wanted to get the pies cooked before the turkey went in the oven. I didn't want to wait for dessert later. My mom was supervising, but we didn't quite use her recipe since she didn't remember it offhand. She hadn't made sweet potato pie in a few years; I'm not sure why we had not complained. We pretty much made this up as we went along. By the time I added sugar, butter and eggs, it looked like we had soup on our hands. We are strictly vanilla people. Please do not put any nutmeg or cinnamon in a sweet potato pie or I will frown slightly as I continue to eat it. I will say that these pies turned out pretty good. They had more of a custard consistency than I was accustomed to. I don't think my mom used quite the ton of sugar that I used. Let's face it, you can slap Cool Whip on anything and it will be good.
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You may not call it a potluck. We had a big debate about this at work. When I said covered dish lunch, that got a few nods of recognition. I decided to try to make my momma's cornbread dressing, which I'm pretty sure is world famous. It is addictive. My husband no longer says the word stuffing, which is a bad word in the South. Who really wants something that has been put into a bird's behind. That is a tradition that must be stopped. Let us all find a Northerner to call and discuss the sanitary considerations involved with stuffing a turkey. Plus, with dressing there is a lot more of the crunchy part. That is lesson #57 in cooking - crunchy is good...most of the time...maybe not in pudding. I'm still refining the cooking lessons. The dressing is pretty easy to make. The cornbread does require a particular cornbread mix, and I would not go against the recipe. It tastes good for some reason and that may be it. I will put the recipe on the recipe page. I would have taken a picture of the dressing after the potluck, but who wants to look at an empty dish.
What is the one thing you need with a pot roast cooked in the crock pot? Yes, it is homemade biscuits. You also need turnip greens in my opinion, but I realize that I may be in the minority on that one. Luckily, I was on the phone with my mom when I got the urge to try to make biscuits. Unfortunately, I did not have buttermilk, which seems to be required for absolutely every Southern dish. It's some sort of dairy conspiracy. So, I proceeded forth with skim milk. I mixed 1 cup of self rising flour, Martha White of course, with 1 tablespoon of Crisco shortening (I actually put a little more which I believe was a mistake), and some amount of skim milk. I kept referring to it as sweet milk, and I don't think my husband knew what that was initially. He's pretty smart, so he figured it out. I cooked the biscuits at 400 degrees for 20 minutes. They were little crunchy hockey pucks. That's not all bad, but I wouldn't call them the best biscuits in the world. I believe that I owe it to myself to actually drag myself to the grocery store and purchase buttermilk. I'm pretty sure that makes a big difference. I'll let you know how that turns out.
While we were sitting and looking at the box of cake mix and can of icing that was to be my sister's birthday cake and consequently never became my sister's birthday cake on Halloween, my mother told us a story about our grandmother. She said that in her later years, a couple of Maw's friends came over on Halloween wearing masks. My grandmother said that they had scared her, because they came over all "dough faced." I like odd Southern terms, as I grew up being called "diddle" and "punkin" by beloved relatives. I did a little research on the term "dough face." Okay, I googled the term; no need to pretend that I went to some library. It seems as though Southern children, at some point, liked to take bread dough and put it on their faces to scare one another. They made weird faces out of the dough and liked to look in the mirror. They didn't sell a lot of masks at the non-existent Wal-Mart, I suppose. I'm pretty sure we did this with Play-Doh, so I will now refer to people wearing a mask as "Play-Doh faced."