by Becky Rule

When I think of the holidays, I think of food.  Mostly tasty, but sometimes dangerous, like when the flaming brandy cake melted a sizable hole in Aunt Barbara’s polyester blouse.  We doused Barbara and the fire. Then we ate the cake. It was different.

Fred Creed from Warner, who bears a strong resemblance to Santa, tells of taking his father out to eat at a restaurant.  “How’d you like your meal?” the waitress asked.

Father said:  “It weren’t so bad but I haven’t ate worse.” High praise from a yankee.

Fred also tells of his brother, who, after eating a slice of apple pie made especially for him by a friend, commented:  “Would’ve been better if you’d used Baldwins.”

“Wasn’t she mad!” Fred said.

At a holiday table, after turkey and fixings, a fine looking blueberry pie was served.  Mother took one bite and announced:  “I’m sorry. This is not as good as I usually make.”

Daughter-in-law replied:  “That’s because I made it.”

And how’s this for a holiday fox pox (that’s yankee for faux pas)?  The Keene kindergarten teacher made play dough for her students, red and green for the season. She also made cookie dough, red and green, for gift tins which she passed out to friends.  After giving away several tins, she realized, to her horror, that she’d switched bowls.  The cookies were made of play dough.

The surprise came, she said, when a friend called and asked for the recipe.

In Wilmot a woman brought her ailing neighbor a casserole to cheer him up.  A week later she returned to collect the dish, and made the mistake — as had Fred Creed’s father’s waitress — of asking how he had enjoyed the meal.  Never ask a yankee a question, unless you’re prepared for an honest answer.

“How’d you like my casserole?” she asked. He answered:  “It wasn’t up to Wilmot standards.”

At church suppers, Lucille noted that Mr. Peverly, given a choice of many pies on the dessert table, inevitably selected a slice of Mrs. Peverly’s pecan.  “Why,” she asked, “do you always pick your wife’s pie?”

“Because I want something decent to eat,” he said.

Happy holidays!  And may the food at your celebration be both decent and up to Wilmot standards.

Becky Rule has lived all her life (so far) in New Hampshire. She has written several popular books set in her home state, including her latest collection of stories, “Live Free and Eat Pie” (Islandport Press), and hosts live storytelling events, many sponsored by the New Hampshire Humanities Council. She posts stories regularly on her website, www.livefreeandeatpie.com.