< intro by Jill, recipe by Ann & Dale >

Growing up, my family ate dessert after every meal. Yes, you heard that right: every meal, even breakfast. After completing the main course, we’d say, “It’s time to seal the meal!”

For instance, “Mom, I’ve finished my oatmeal. It’s time to seal the meal.” 

Or, “Mom, if I enjoy more broccoli I simply won’t have room for crème brûlée. I’m ready to seal the meal.”

I realize this sounds looney, but our “seal the meal” ritual gave me a healthy outlook on dessert (it’s an edible equivalent to a kiss goodbye) and also a reason to moderate (it would be imprudent to gorge on meatloaf when brownies are up next).

When I preview the desserts at Thanksgiving, I measure each slice of pie against the size of my stomach. Then, I stock my plate accordingly — a little less turkey, a little more pumpkin pie; a little less stuffing, a little more apple crumble.

All the while, I seek out desserts that bear the mark of human creation — I don’t want a factory-perfect pie with a crust latticed by robots, I want handmade pie with fork-crimped edges and uneven browning. Specifically, I want this pie, which was created with the helping hands of my niece Cora — the latest addition to a long line of experts on how to seal a meal.

Click here to see the recipe for Cora’s Perfect Punko Pie!