Last week, I had the most delicious chocolate mousse pie. A gift from my dad!
It was his third and best attempt. He brought the whole pie over in a cooler with a bag of frozen cappellettis from Nonni. I was psyched. Chocolate mousse pie AND cappellettis? Turns out, he was only using the bag of cappellettis as an ice pack, and he said he needed them back. Curse you, father. (In the end, he gave those to me, too. This blog has been working out great in situations like this.)
We wasted no time cutting into the mousse pie. I was slightly pissed off to realize that it was, frankly, better than mine. Really. He said mine was lighter, but his was plenty light and, more importantly, his was chocolatier. Guess what wins out in my book? So, I think we’re going to have to arrange some sort of chocolate mousse pie exchange program so that he makes one for me if I make one for him.
Anyway, in my haste to wrap up the pie and get it into the refrigerator before my kids started using my sharing lecture against me, I forgot to take a picture like I promised. I had already stuck toothpicks into it like a porcupine to keep the plastic wrap from pulling off valuable whipped cream. Then, I ate it all. I’m a bad blogger and a bad daughter.
By the way, I don’t mean to withhold the recipe, it's just that it's part of the family cookbook. I got it from my beloved cousin, Karla, after she wowed everyone at a family reunion with it a few years ago. So, you’ll just have to wait. Unless, of course, you can con my dad into making one for you.
So give me his number! easy to tell us to con him into SHARING if you don't give us his number...bad friend as well...hmm.....
Posted by: ilva | April 23, 2007 at 05:03 AM
Your Dad is quite a guy! A real class act! As an impartial and totally objective reader of this blog, I find your posts about your Dad to be the most interesting. You should do more.
Posted by: Disinterested Observer | April 23, 2007 at 11:26 AM
I don't remember actually giving you the coplets! As I recollect, I was just starting to tell you that I needed them back when you snatched them up, ran to the kitchen, threw them into the freezer and barred the door with a triple gauge, industrial strength padlock. All before my sentence was completed! I was amazed! I hadn't seen you move that fast as a member of the High School track team!
Boy, that Disinterested Observer is sharp as a tack, isn't he?
Posted by: Disinterested Observer | April 23, 2007 at 01:31 PM
Gee, how did Disinterested Observer's name get associated with my last response? Tammy, you really need to get the glitches ironed out of your comments section.
Posted by: Dad | April 23, 2007 at 01:35 PM
Dad: I don't think there's a future for you in international espionage. But, if anyone's looking for a pastry chef...
Ilva: Bad friend, bad wife, the list goes on.
Posted by: Tammy | April 23, 2007 at 10:09 PM