Pepper in My Paprikash

I baked a pie for my new small group today. I often use small groups as an excuse to have all the bad food that I normally would not eat by myself- cakes, cookies, nachos, and in today's case, pecan pie. (Not that I eat healthy alone- that creamed spinach I've been eating by myself has been downright disgusting... and delicious. I just eat less sweets.)

As we sat there, in leather armchairs softer than cream, someone remarked that enjoying the pie was testament to how we were truly adults, for she had always thought of pecan as a grown up pie. No little kid ever loved pecan. I liked her comment. It made me think of just how far a few years can take us (forced tie in to picture above). I just started eating pecan pies last year. And with all the bill paying, car maintenance, going to work, and finding a gutter guy on adulthood's cons list, it's comforting to know that there's a boon so nice as a slice of pecan pie on its pro list. Waiter, I'd be proud to partake of your pecan pie.