Chapter 43 Weakness
No owning of Bones was used in the concoction of this story.
"Oh, how I miss your grandma's strawberry-rhubarb pie," Pops sighed as the clan sat down to Sunday dinner. "And her sour cream raisin pie. Lordy, how that woman could cook! I think my greatest weakness were Margaret's pies. All of them. Temperance, honey, the lasagna smells wonderful. I might just have to develop a new weakness with you around!"
"Pops, I don't think you cook pies, you bake them," ventured Parker with a grin. "We had those words in our vocabulary list in third grade, and there is a difference. You bake sweet things, you cook everything else!"
"Ah, Parker, you are not entirely correct," Brennan ribbed the boy gently. 'You know how I always remind your father and you that I adore pie like he does, because I don't like my fruit cooked? You have to cook the fruit to soften it before you add all the sugar and other ingredients to make pie filling. Then you are correct. Once the sweet filling is spread over the crust, the pie is baked to complete it. So creating a pie actually involves both methods of food preparation; cooking and baking."
"Tempe, you sound like Julia Childs, so technical and precise," laughed her father. "Your mother always contended if you could read, you could cook. That it was as simple as falling off a log."
"Dad, cooking does involve reading and scientific precision, since ingredients are most often measured. I'll grant you some very experienced cooks can eyeball amounts with surprising accuracy. It has always thrown me for a loop, I've tried not measuring when I cook, and the results are not appetizing. That, as you know, was another one of Mom's frequent expressions. My memories of her cooking are rather vague except for her blueberry pancakes. I loved them as a child, and those are still my weakness, I suppose. That and snickerdoodles," she smiled at her father.
"Well, I agree with Pops, my weakness is pie, any kind of pie," Booth declared around a mouthful of lasagna. "That and Bones' homemade macaroni and cheese with nutmeg. That's heaven on earth!" he grinned across the table at Brennan.
"Yup, Dad, you're right, Bones' mac and cheese is out of this world," Parker agreed. "Mom is a great cook, but she only makes me mac and cheese out of the box, and it's just not the same."
"Christine's weakness is not strained peas, or carrots, or any kind of baby vegetable, it seems. Organic or otherwise," Brennan frowned slightly at her child, who had just rolled another mouthful of strained peas out with her flexible little tongue. "I'm afraid she's taking after her daddy. Her weakness seems to be applesauce and baby bananas –plain or with rice cereal."
"Well, one weakness I DON'T share with you is tofu, Bones. I'm not sure who first decided to mistreat soy beans that way, but I wish they'd just left the poor little guys alone! Tofu is yucky!" Booth proclaimed.
"Booth, you sound like a five year old. Soy beans are not anthropomorphic. And what kind of example is that to set for your daughter?" Brennan made a face at him, as he leaned over to kiss her. "We all have our strengths and weaknesses. And I guess a fondness for certain foods is not a bad weakness to have. It's much better than not being able to shoot straight. Which reminds me, Booth, I still want a gun! I am a very good shot!"