Like most, I grew up on the pumpkin pie from the back of the Libby’s label. The crust may have been homemade or may have been a Pillsbury crust, I don’t really recall, but the pumpkin came from a can. Mixed with fresh eggs, various seasonal spices and a can of evaporated milk it was the holiday standard. When I was old enough to assume pie responsibilities, I follwed the recipe religiously and produced two beautiful pies. There was never deviation from this plan. Don’t mess with tradition; there are dire consequences. The pie was always, always, served with Reddi-Whip right out of the can. In fact, squirting copious amounts of Reddi-Whip directly into our mouths while hiding behind the refrigerator door was an important part of my sisters’ and my holiday tradition. Our mother was on watch as soon as the groceries were unpacked and would listen for that telltale sound. With ears like a hawk, we never quite pulled it off.
STRESSCAKE 