I’m baking not one, but two, pecan pies this afternoon. They’re currently at that stage where they might be done or they might need to cook another few minutes.
That’s my least favorite part of baking—the wondering. In a perfect world. everything would have an exact time limit. For pecan pies the instructions might say, “Cook for 70 minutes at 350° F and voila!”
I tend to err on the side of caution, while Studly Doright errs on the side of, “A little bit too done is just right.” Some years when I’ve allowed him to control the process my pecan pies have ended up with the consistency of a Goodyear tire. But when I’m in charge, the pie often is best eaten with a spoon.
That used to drive me crazy, but nowadays, que sera sera! Whatever will be, will be.