It’s that time of year when I start thinking about good, old-fashioned comfort food. The air is beginning to feel a bit chillier, the days are getting noticeably shorter, and my youngest has already been away at school for an entire month. When I’m planning my weekly menu this time of year, my shopping lists fills with ingredients for hearty soups, delicious pastas, and foods that fill the house with long hours of scintillating aromas. And chicken pot pie is always the family favorite.
Last week, our middle daughter, Katie Ann, said, “Mom, I think it’s time for chicken pot pie.”
Now, this is not an unusual request from Katie who could eat homemade pot pie 365 days of the year, but I knew what she meant. It’s not a meal I make in the summer when my handmade, flaky crusts are reserved for blueberry, peach, or strawberry rhubarb pies. It’s one of those meals that is just right for a cold, blustery, snowy, or rainy day. A day like this past Sunday.
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I am usually finished Christmas shopping by the first of November, except for a few stocking stuffers and perhaps an extra gift here or there. That’s good because this month, we have incurred several unexpected expenses, and Ken asked me to tone down the gift giving. “No problem,” I told him, “I’m pretty much done shopping.” Then I went to my gift closet and pulled out everything I’ve bought in my travels over the past year, and guess what. I haven’t bought nearly as many presents as I thought I had. As Charlie Brown would say, “Good grief.”
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