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Pioneer Woman’s Pecan Pie

used to be scared of Pecan Pie when I was a little girl. Seriously. It was in the long list of dishes and ingredients that I truly thought would kill me if I tasted them. Peas were on the list, too. Sloppy Joes scared me to death. If I saw pizza, I’d scream. And Miracle Whip, bananas, and tea gave me nightmares.
I was a weird child. I liked potato chip sandwiches.
And anyway, Miracle Whip, bananas and tea still give me nightmares. But as an adult, I’m able not to dwell on the negatives in my life. It’s all about maturity with me.
Miracle Whip, bananas, and tea aside, I’ll be forever thankful that Pecan Pie has been successfully marked off the list. I began tasting it at Thanksgiving dinner about ten years ago—that would have been right around the time I was experiencing some violent surge in pregnancy or lactation hormones, so my appetite probably demanded it—and slowly but surely, it’s skyrocketed to the very top of my all-time favorite pies on this earth.
Do you love Pecan Pie as much as I? Do your eyes roll back into your head when you taste the sweet, custardy, sugary—almost caramely—goodness? Or are you among the unfortunate humans who has never tried Pecan Pie? I know you’re out there, and if you’re listening, please, please listen to me: make it this Thanksgiving. Give it a try. It’s simple. It’s hearty. It’s basic. And it’s just so good.
*The author of this post is not resonsible for the formation of saddle bags and love handles, which will result in 93% of cases.
*But we won’t worry about that today. We’ll worry about that tomorrow…or at least, on November 28.
Note: I should warn you that Im was in a colorful, zippy mood last night when I whipped this up, so I went over the top with color and contrast for these photos. I’d been feeling entirely too serious and needed a little pick-me-up. Forgive me if they hurt your eyes.

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